Send me an Owl
by Luinwen-2013
Summary: AU after BoFA, Kili Elvenblood is King Under the Mountain. Adventures (beginning in chapter 9)happen when the foreign family visits Erebor 28 and 56 years after BoFA, while the story of the spirit of a deceased dwarf that lingers in the Forges of Mahal is told. Sequel to "Loyalty, Honnor, and a Willing Heart". May reach LotR times. Kili/OC, Bilbo/OC and... Weekly updates on fridays
1. Prologue

A/N: I reposted this prologue adding the scene in Mahal's forge that was in the Epilogue of "Loyalty, Honor, and a Willing Heart", so no one has to go back to it just to read this piece of the story, as it will be continued here soon. Albeit I suggest to read that whole story before getting into this one, so you get acquainted to the OCs and AU as a whole. It can be found here: s/9253058/1/Loyalty-Honor-and-a-Willing-Heart

I thank you very much for R&R and hope you enjoy it as much as I am!

* * *

My name was Ellen, with a surname doesn`t matter anymore. I was born human, in a world out of the circles of Arda, called Earth. Then I stumbled into Middle-Earth with my two nieces, thanks to an enchanted map, and found myself being an elf. Then I offered my services to a dwarven king in exile so I could reach the only place from where I could get myself and my nieces back home. Then I was adopted as sister by two noble dwarven warriors. Then I gave up my undying elf life to save the life of the one I love. Now I`m called Ellen Dwarvenheart, daughter of Fundin, and these are some letters and stories from my family.

* * *

_Earth_

A whole year went by, and eventually things settled as they would have to. Iris was studying furiously, and begun to take charge of the medicinal plants growth in the yard; she was also applying for a nursing technician course and had already made a first aid course and a fire brigade course too.

Lily lost the year in college while copping her grief, but once she uplifted her head there was nothing that could stop her from achieving her goals. She was alive, and decided that she would live, not only survive, and make her best, although she went in Ellen's former 'out of business' mode.

Wolfram sat at the library certain morning, reading the newspaper, when through the open window an owl came in, a parchment tied to its talon. It found a place right in front of him to land down on the table, crooking his golden eyes to the man. Slowly and carefully, he reached for the bird and untied the silken ribbon with the parchment. The owl waited for a minute and flew away, silent as it came.

"Yes, a picture can tell more than a thousand words!" He said, looking at the open parchment; but there was another one, and words, too, lots of them.

"Dearest brother,

I hope the owl has found you, Dumbledore swore it would be easy for the bird to reach you once he could track the energy of Lily's sword, as it was made here in Middle-Earth. Next time, if you are able, provide one or two mice as reward for the owl and you'll be sure it will find you when needed.

It took me _years_ of negotiation to open this communication channel, so, please help to keep it open. There is a non-changing Gate between the Forbidden Forest in Hogwarts and Mirkwood. This means no mind blockage too, but if you ever send me a single word about the future it will not only be censored but all my efforts to negotiate this channel will be thrown into the recycle bin. I have not been able to negotiate the use of this Gate for personal use, yet, for the same reason. Next year wait for the owl with your letter already written, bind it in the bird's leg and it will reach me. Now, I'll try to condense last seven years happenings, else the owl will not be able to carry the parchment!

Bilbo went back to the Shire, accompanied by Gandalf, who would send word to Dís and the dwarves in the Blue Mountains to come and re-people Erebor. It seems Bilbo's people thought he was dead and made a mess with his things, he had to re-buy most of his own belongings and it took him years to prove he was alive. When Dís came with her people Bilbo came along to attend to our wedding, and it snowed food and rained drink for three days. It was almost a year after the Battle of Five Armies, so even if in sorrow for not having Thorin and Fili here, we were able to feast. Of course me and Kili didn't show our noses out of home in the second day of feasting, as this is the dwarven tradition, but be sure Dís and the Company provided that no guest has been unattended. I asked to have some of our world traditions present in the wedding, so my dress was white, but as I am counted as a warrior I had to wear some armor to show it, so I used silver vambraces and a light mithril full plate corselet. I had Tauriel and Arwen as my maidens at the wedding, as I had no family women here.

Dís is a sweetie, stubborn like Thorin Oakenshield; she was very saddened by the loss of both her brother and her first born son to war, but glad to have Kili left; when our son was born she was in state of grace, as it was the first time in seventy nine years that her family was growing instead of dwindling. I am really blessed to have Dís here, she was so reassuring to me when the baby was born, as I panicked because he was so _tiny_, but she calmed me explaining he was not _tiny_, he just was a _dwarf_! Well, let me introduce you our youngling, we thought it would only be fair to pay homage to Kili's uncle in his name, so Durin's line has already another _Thorin_. By the way, _Knee_ is how we use to call little Thorin to differentiate him from Thorin Oakenshield; you should see Kili's worry when the baby was born, because he had absolutely no experience with babies, and Kili kept mumbling 'W_hy does my son look like a knee?_' until Dís whacked his head explaining he looked exactly that way when he was born. We already have another one on the way, our upcoming one will be Lyn, if a girl, after Balin and Dwalin's sister, and if a dark-haired boy he will be Frérin, after Dís other brother, and if a blond then he will be Fili, for the deceased one.

Kili managed to grow a short beard already, it is no more that itchy stumbles, he even looks a bit more grown up. He has been quite a grown up king, too, having managed definite peace with the Mirkwood elves, and the "_you can never trust an elf_" quote became a joke. Dealings with Long-Lake have always been good, especially after the Master flew away with most of the gold that was sent to rebuild the town; seemingly he died of hunger in the Waste, deserted by his companions. Then the people chose another Master, more interested in his people's needs than in his own, and he works together with Bard in Dale, as twin cities. Dale was rebuilt even fairer than it was of old, or at least so do sing the ones who knew it before Smaug came. These seven first years have been of much cleansing and rebuilding, but they were worthy the effort.

To make it short, as the parchment is ending, people have given us nicknames due to what happened in the Battle, like Thorin had his Oakenshield nickname due to what happened in the Battle of Azanulbizar; Bombur and Bofur have found their Jewels, so we may have more younglings among the Company members in the next years. As Durin's people has decreased so much in the last two hundred years, we are making an effort to increase the birth rate amongst Erebor dwarves _leading by example_.

Love for ever,

Ellen Dwarvenheart, Fundinul"

In the other parchment there was a fine drawing of a sturdy short bearded dwarf, standing proudly holding in his arms a small boy with braids in his locks, and beside a chair where a longhaired elf sat smiling, her belly bulging with a midway term pregnancy. One acquainted to Anghertas runes would be able to read under the drawing:

"Erebor, Durin's Day of the seventh year of the reign of Kili Elvenblood, son of Dís, King Under the Mountain"

* * *

_Valinor_

He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes a slit. It was too clear around, though he could no figure out where the sun might be. It was not cold, it was not warm, and he was not hungry. Everything was comfortable, more than he had been comfortable for a long time. He noticed his shoulder and other wounds didn't bother him anymore, either. He was tired, tough, and closed his eyes to sleep a bit more.

He woke up with the feeling of being observed, and sat up at once, startled. He could not see his observer, and begun to search the place, warily. It was not as full of light as before, and he felt the place he was sleeping on was not as smooth, although his muscles felt perfectly rested.

It was a large stone room, and he didn't figure out what kind of place was that. He saw two hearths, one on each side of the room, the closest one meant for comfort, with its golden flames licking... what? That was not wood, at least didn't look like wood. It looked more like... stones. Burning stones. Now he was sure he had seen everything in this world.

The heat of the fire made him feel thirsty and then saw a water flagon on a table nearby, and a mug he was sure he didn't see there before. He poured some water in the mug, warily, but the water didn't make anything unexpected. It was crystal clear, no smell, and he decided to take a probing sip. Water. Plain water, refreshing, tasteless, water. He drank it down in small sips, exploring the place with slow steps. Somehow, he knew he didn't have to haste.

There were tools on the wall, and scattered on a workbench were several pieces of handiwork in different stages of completeness. Most of them he could not understand, but some were quite what he was used to make himself. He felt a sting in his heart thinking how long it had been since he used a forge last time. It felt worse when he remembered when it actually was. He sighed and shook his head, sad. There was nothing he could do now. Only wait.

He left the water mug on the workbench when he noticed a particularly known object on the other side of the room, close to the forge hearth, and went for it. There was an anvil, and an unfinished war axe waiting to be worked on, the metal glowing red, begging to be hammered, shaped into what it was meant to become. If he was left in that room for any reason at all, this might well be the reason. That axe was calling for him, and he yearned for the heat of the forge, the weight of the hammer in his hand, the sound of metal against metal reverberating through his whole body. He smiled to himself when he took the axe with a tong and lifted the hammer to hit it where it should. His hand fell down with all the weight of the hammer and of his own will on the axe head.

The pain hit him at the same moment, making him release the tools and throwing him seven feet away from the anvil. Biting his lip to hold back a groan, he sat up and rubbed his chest where the pain hit him. It was not even sore to the touch, making it all more incomprehensible. He was scrambling to his feet when a shadow moved to be between him and the fire.

"You should not play with tools that are not meant for you, child, even if you feel inclined to fix things as soon as you may. I'm glad to see you are so willing to make things right, tough, as last time it took you absurdly long to take this step."

He looked at the one who spoke to him, wide eyed. He never heard that voice before, not outside his dreams, and he knew to whom it belonged.

"Mahal..."

The newcomer took the tools from where they'd fell and put them back into place; then he took the unfinished war axe, the metal still glowing red, with his bare hands and put it back on the forge to heat up again; then he straightened his tough leather apron with his hands and turned back to him.

"Yes, that is it. Now, close your mouth before you start dribbling, it's not like we never met."

The owner of the place beckoned him to a chair at the table where the water flagon was and made himself comfortable, filling a mug that wasn't there until that moment. The flagon poured red wine.

"Now, where are we? Aye, you have done a good job, child. Fulfilled what you swore, that's it."

He got dizzy, and held his head down until he felt better. Comprehension of where he was, and in front of whom, overwhelmed him.

"My Lord, I..."

"Hush, hush, child, I know, I know... Now, stand up, take a chair, we have much to talk, and no hurry. No need for apologies and kneeling stuff, not here, child."

Then he remembered everything. He had taken his people out of Erebor, and moved to the Gray Mountains. It had been a mistake, a decision made out of pride, and his people paid dearly for it. Dain I, the son of his grandson, was slain by a great cold-drake because of that decision, and Frór, Dain's second son also. But the firstborn, Thrór, moved his people back to Erebor, making the right decision. He wanted to help him, to compensate for having moved his people out of Erebor so long ago, and begged to go back and help to restore the glory of the halls of his people, that had been lost in great measure because of him. He promised. And he went.

"I... I didn't know that it was a plan to mend things I've done wrong before. I... I just loved Erebor fiercely, and when it was taken by Smaug... I just had to take it back."

"So, there was none as fit as you to do this deed, don't you think so?" He poured himself more wine, and from the same flagon poured more water for the one who had just arrived from Middle-Earth. "You cannot retain the memory of before when you're down there, like when you are here, else you would get insane. One life is enough for one to deal in just a lifetime. Now, here, we can talk about the whole story and take some decisions about your future."

"I understand, my Lord."

"So, let us see what has been left behind..."


	2. TA 2955, Ellen to Wolfram

A/N: As suggested by Borys68, I'm adding a little summary for you dear readers not to get lost on the OCs. In each chapter, it will contain a list with the OCs and characters named by Master Tolkien but not overly written about, if at all; I'll list the character's name, affiliation, age in one's own original race and/or equivalent in human years, noted as D.A. (dwarven age), Ho.A. (hobbit age), E.A. (elf age, if needed; elves will mostly be referred only as children, younglings, adults and mature, if needed at all), N.A. (numenorean human age, for the Dúnedain) and H.A. (human age, the standard to what all other ages will be compared). I'll not use any unchallengeable mathematical formula to convert ages, so the characters will be depicted mostly by my own feeling of what they should be/act at their equivalent in human age. I'll put this note at the end of each chapter so not to tire everybody by the repetition, but alowing people who by any reason skip chapters to have this information, and the list at the beginning of the chapter.

Have a nice reading and, if you liked, please review!

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Ellen: Sister of Wolfram, aunt of Lily and Iris, wife of Kíli; E.A. adult; H.A.35.

Wolfram: Brother of Ellen, father of Lily and Iris; H.A. 47.

Thorin "Knee": Firstborn son of Kíli and Ellen; D.A. 12; H.A. child.

Frérin: Second son of Kíli; D.A. 7; H.A. toddler

Lyn: Third child of Kíli, his first daughter; D.A. 1; H.A. baby

Zirc: Wife of Bofur

Firc: Daughter of Bofur and Zirc; D.A. 2; H.A. baby

Dahl: Wife of Bombur

Difur and Dibur: Sons of Bombur and Dahl; D.A. 6m.; H.A. baby

* * *

_T.A. 2955, Ellen to Wolfram_

Erebor, New Year's Day of the fourteenth year of the reign of Kili Elvenblood, King Under the Mountain

Dear Brother,

I hope this letter finds you and the girls healthy and happy and that Dumbledore's owl didn't forget the path to your library. Rärc, son of Röac, the noble raven who helped us when we first came to Erebor, told us Dumbledore's owls may be or may not be completely reliable, but I don't have any personal opinion in this matter. As I'm helping Dumbledore in other issues, I think things might be quite right regarding our tunneling.

Our second baby is a dark haired boy, so Durin's line already has another Frérin too; he is seven years old by now, he had his time as younger brother in being mischievous to Knee as any little brother would be but now that we have our little Lyn they both are the most unthinkable caring brothers one could fancy; at least, around her, amongst themselves they pester each one all the time.

Dís is crazy because Kili has already three kids at an age she had none at all yet, but we know she is completely happy about it, mostly because she always dreamt to have a baby girl and had only sons and now she has a grand-daughter. I must handle Balin and Dwalin even more than her, because the kids are their only nephews and niece, and came when they didn't even expect to have any heirs at all. So, the same they were my "watchdogs" before my wedding, now they spend every spare time spoiling my kids. So it is that in behalf of Balin, with the help of Dori, Erebor's schoolmaster, the boys are already literate in this early age (for dwarven standards), and in behalf of Dwalin they know how to handle a small hammer or axe, especially throwing axes. You can imagine what my walls look like!

Three years ago I spent half a year at Imladris, so Elrond could unblock my brains and train me in the 'mind touching' skill. Of course the memory of the future is completely buried somewhere none can reach. Kili was not very happy about my travelling, but understood it would be good not only for me but also for the kingdom to have means to know a bit of what people think, and for the boys to have some contact with elven culture; even so, I traveled there escorted by my Brothers and some loyal warriors not of the Company. Balin and Dwalin went to spend some time in the Shire, visiting Bilbo, and he sent a letter to Iris, if the owl didn't lose it I bet a tuna can she will be happy. Unfortunately Arwen was back to her grand-mother's home, but Elrond's human step-son, the Estel boy Lily gave chocolate, was already a twenty-one grown young man, very nice to talk to. I taught him the 'kill the dummies' trick Thorin Oakenshield trained me into, it was fun. When it was to go back to Erebor Kili came himself to escort me and the kids, and I must confess we both were half crazy missing each other; be sure I couldn't have found someone like him in any other world, and that I like very much the idea that the dwarven life span uses to reach two hundred fifty years. I really won't mind spending one and half century beside him, and hopefully more, as he is only ninety one.

By the way, the paths from Erebor to Imladris are quite better, as Legolas and Tauriel took on themselves the task of getting rid of the spiders, as Thranduil promised they could marry after all the spiders are gone. The Valar be thanked, King Ostrich may still be doing nothing, but at least doesn't keep others of doing something! After the White Council made the Necromancer flee from Dol Guldur, the damned arachnids got weaker and dumber, easier to kill, as seemingly they were a kind of Acromantulas that escaped through the Forbidden Forest Gate and were hired by the Necromancer; without his domination, they are just big stupid spiders. Dumbledore and Hagrid managed it so that the Acromantulas cannot pass through that Gate any more, making it easier to finish with them here. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'd bet Dumbledore is a NerdNet guy too, isn't he? Ok, I know you won't tell me, but I must make my guess anyway.

Bofur and Bombur had their weddings the same day, six years ago, just to make it merrier; their Jewels are Zirc, a toy music box maker from the Iron Hills whom Bofur got to know at a trading fair party he organized, and Dahl, a cheesemonger who supplied us. They are sweeties, and the Company family is steadily growing, as Bofur and Zirc got a girl one year older than Lyn and Bombur and Dahl just got twin boys; Óin complains he is getting too old to midwife so many dwarflings, but it is obvious he is proud to help Erebor's birth rate to increase. Of course it is not every dwarven couple that is as dedicated to it as me and Kili, as it _was_ commonplace to wait several years between children, but then we made a statistical survey that showed it was mostly because of the _cost_ of raising a child, not because of any lack of wanting children around. It explains why among high lineage families siblings use to be closer in age than among disadvantaged families. I know sometimes a 'last of the Mohicans' happens, but I observe people here are very responsible in procreative issues. It is astounding how Middle-Earth peoples have family planning knowledge and resources in this seemingly medieval culture, that in our Earth were almost unknown until the sixties'. So, after the survey, we proposed some social support measures, and every child who is born has her share of food, clothes and studying classes, regardless of how much her parents earn. Healthcare is granted, too, but thankfully dwarven health is stronger than you can imagine. Usually, families who have the means to pay for it don't use the social support, as Durin's folk is a proud folk, always willing to give help but adamantly resistant to take it.

Other thing that our survey pointed out was that there were many Compromised dwarves that didn't marry because of the cost of having a three day long feast, as everyone wants to invite _all_ relatives and friends. This proud people would rather keep single than to marry having a small party! As it is strategic for the realm that our people grow, we provided to have all those couples getting married the same day, along with New Year's Day five years ago, with the three day feasting at the expenses of the crown. Along with the social support for the children, we believe this will result in lots of work for Dori in schooling them and for Dwalin and Bifur in training them.

I've been using what experience I have in heavy industry plants to take work safety measures, and, for what we know from other dwarven mines complexes, we reached an astoundingly low work accident rate, for Middle-Earth standards. Old fire brigade moto that says that the accident happens where prevention failed is completely true, and we are selling our consulting services advice in security measures, having people trained in risk evaluation, redundant safety items, and so on. Lots of fun!

The whole Company sends their love to Lily and Iris, and regards to you. I really hope the Gate will work again, I can hardly wait another fourteen years to see you all!

Love forever,

Ellen Dwarvenheart, Fundinul


	3. TA 2952, Bilbo to Iris and Waiting Song

A/N: Hello, dear readers, here goes our promised weekly update. I decided on posting a letter from Bilbo plus a poem from Lily so it would not be too short, and I'll be doing this everytime just one letter or story chapter doesn't hit the 700 words mark.

Next week: Chapter 3 - Tales of Mahal's Forge, I

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Iris: Daughter of Wolfram, sister of Lily, niece of Ellen, Little Sister of Kíli; ; H.A. 18

* * *

T.A. 2952, Bilbo to Iris

Hobbiton, January 25th, 1352 Shire Reckoning

My dearest Iris, I miss you so much that I don't know how to write this letter. My life has been silent since the day you jumped into Mirror Lake back to your electric showers and rock shows, leaving behind the empty shell of the hobbit I once was. Gandalf was right when he said that if I ever came back from that journey, I would not be the same. Even if I go on with my quiet Baggins life, with my books, my armchair, my food, everything lacks meaning when I look around and you are not here.

The first years were quite busy for me, as I had to proof that I was alive to get my furniture back from the ones who bought it believing I was deceased, but this at least kept my mind from wandering along the paths we tread together. My cousin Lobelia pestered to death that I was not me, and finally I bought the silverware back from her to finish the matter. The best use I'm having for that ring is to vanish when the Sackville-Bagginses are around!

Then, after having everything back in place, the garden tended, I sit on the bench in the front yard and smoke my pipe, and look at the road that leads to Bree, and to beyond, the road that goes ever on and on, and I think of you. You must have come of age by now, I suppose? Do you still think about this poor fellow? Life in the Shire probably would be boring to you, but I'd do my best to have you entertained and happy. You could punch me any day of the week if you wished, if only I could see your piece-of-the-sky eyes looking at me. You would love the Took side of my family, I swear.

Actually, the Tooks are the only who still respect me, all other families consider my reputation completely lost. If they knew how much I care for what they think about my reputation, my reputation would get even lower. Now I really regret not having insisted more with your father in letting you stay, as my reputation is already so low that marrying a girl not yet of age would do no harm to my reputation at all. What am I saying, your father would not allow, no matter what arguments I used, so, here I am, Iris, a lonely hobbit looking down the road and dreaming to see fire red locks flowing in the wind, a pair of twin swords shining under the sun and the most perfect mischievous smile in Middle-Earth tempting me. Then I wake up to my unsmoked pipe and have to deal with the fact that you are not here, and I don't know if I'll ever see you again.

Dwalin is here beside me and says that if I dare to cry as I write he will behead me with his axe, so, I'm finishing for now. Even if I have to travel to Erebor to do it, I'll send you another letter when it is allowed.

Please inform your father that I maintain my best intentions, as I have told him before, and that if he ever happens to "fall" into the Shire, he will be most welcome in my humble dwellings at any time. Send a warm hug to our Mischievous Company fellow Lily, I hope she smiles again.

Yearning for you,

Always,

Bilbo Baggins

* * *

From Lily's Notebook

**Waiting Song**

by Lily Grace, daughter of Wolfram

I look around and I cannot see

Where are your hands, so warm and strong

Powerful grip on hammer and tong

I remember them well, as they caressed me

But now they are gone, and everything is wrong

I cry and I stumble, fall down on my knees.

I touch with my hands the cold of the stone

And I call to my mind your eyes' shine of steel

Why are you so distant that I cannot feel

Your touch and your gaze? Why am I alone?

Oh, come back to me, so my heart can heal!

I don't know what life is since the day that you've gone.

But I know I will wait, it is just for the time being

I'll find you again when my time is fulfilled

In undying lands our swords we shall wield

And once more again I will call you my King

My love and my lord, my strong Oakenshield

I'm your flower wild, you're my everything!

* * *

A/N: As suggested by Borys68, I'm adding a little summary for you dear readers not to get lost on the OCs. In each chapter, it will contain a list with the OCs and characters named by Master Tolkien but not overly written about, if at all; I'll list the character's name, affiliation, age in one's own original race and equivalent in human years, noted as D.A. (dwarven age), Ho.A. (hobbit age), E.A. (elf age, if needed; elves will mostly be referred only as children, younglings, adults and mature, if needed at all), N.A. (numenorean human age, for the Dúnedain) and H.A. (human age, the standard to what all other ages will be compared). I'll not use any unchallengeable mathematical formula to convert ages, so the characters will be depicted mostly by my own feeling of what they should be/act at their equivalent in human age. I'll put this note at the end of each chapter so not to tire everybody by the repetition, but allowing people who by any reason skip chapters to have this information, and the list at the beginning of the chapter.

Have a nice reading and, if you liked, please review!


	4. Tales of Mahal's forge, I

A/N: Hello, dear readers, here goes our promised weekly update, no letters this time. I thank you very much for R&R, you really make my day!

Next week: Chapter 4 - T.A. 2955, letters from Wolfram to Ellen and from Iris to Bilbo

* * *

**Love for a Grandfather**

The day after that first baffling meeting with the owner of the forge where he was stuck in, when they spend countless hours talking about his life, the dwarf was left to sleep in the place he awakened that... morning? Inside that mountain he didn't have the sense of night and day the same way he had back in Middle-Earth. Then he could tell which hour of the day it was with his eyes shut in the darkest and deepest chamber of any mountain. Here he wasn't sure about it, so he deemed he woke up in the morning and had gone to sleep at evening, and that would be enough for him, as there wasn't really a reason to bother about it.

After some days of long conversation he had been allowed to use the forge and a very small hammer, to his own measuring, and directions about what he could and what he should not do while there. As he still felt tired sometimes, most of the time that he was alone he spent just staring at the fire, thinking, but sometimes to think too much brought him sadness and longings that he could not quench.

The dwarf was wearing down his anguish hammering an unharmful piece of metal to bend it to a certain shape he had been asked for when the fire got hotter and the Maker was there again. Since he was allowed to use the forge, even if only directed by its owner, it had been easier to bear the lone waiting hours between that one's goings and comings. He was never hungry, and understood his thirst was not of any ordinary liquid, and that it was not any ordinary drink that was being given to him since the day he arrived, and he could not sleep all the time he was alone. Working at the forge gave him a feeling of usefulness that he was lacking, and he was also used to think while working, so it was a good solution. He didn't yet think about how many of his race could claim to have been taught forging by that one himself, however.

"Fine job, child. I can feel the love you poured into this piece of workmanship."

It was a praise he would keep as a treasure beyond price as long as he could hold the memory of it. The following question took him by surprise.

"What were you thinking about when you were doing it?"

"I... I was just thinking about my last months in Middle-Earth."

"Yes?"

It was clear the answer was not deemed enough.

"The journey to retake Erebor."

"What about the journey?"

He swallowed hard. The shine of that deep sea blue eyes haunted him, actually, the knowledge that he would never more see that shining eyes again until... Until she reached the Halls of Waiting, too. But would she? She had not been born dwarf. What would happen?

"She was a special lass, wasn't she?"

He looked up, startled. He thought he didn't say anything aloud – or did he?

"You're afraid you won't see her again, even if you Compromised. Why?"

The owner of the forge took two completely different and foreign pieces of wrought metal from the workbench and assembled them, not looking at the dwarf at all.

"I have not been worthy of her love. I spent so many years hating that I have not learned how to love, and how to be loved. I don't deserve her."

"Ask yourself if this is true, child. Did you really spend so many years only hating? Did you not learn how to love?"

"I hated Smaug and all the destruction he brought to my people; I hated Thranduil, and in his name I hated every elf on Middle-Earth, for what I understood as betrayal, and lack of compassion; I hated the Defiler for all the sorrow our war has brought unto my people. I had no room for love."

"This is not what I have seen, child. When you got outraged at Azanulbizar, was it out of hate? Really?"

"Yes, I hated Azog."

"But Azog just beheaded your grandfather and king. So, did you really act out of pure hate? I don't think so."

The dwarf got silent for a while, measuring what his Maker said. He saw him going to the anvil with another piece of metal held by tongs, weighing the hammer in his hand and strike the metal on the anvil. The clash rung through his flesh.

"What was your strongest feeling at that moment, child? What moved you right then? I doubt it was hate."

Another blow on the metal, another shake in his body. He was a small and confused child. In front of his Maker, he could allow himself to give in to feelings that he had to keep locked inside himself all his life, or, _his lives_.

"I felt... I was... I just lost my grandfather! He was the measure of everything to me. Even if he got the gold-sickness while in Erebor, he was working hard for our people in the Blue Mountains, to grant our people a place, a land, to retake what had been taken from us, from _our people_. He was fighting even at his old age, putting his life at risk, and actually _losing his life_ in behalf of his people, _our_ people. He could have stayed quiet and comfortable in the Blue Mountains, we were thriving there, but he wanted the best for us all, his family, his people..."

The mighty one took the piece he was working on in his hands and looked at it critically.

"Yes, I know what happened there. But, I asked, what _was_ your _strongest_ _feeling_ then? Can you tell me?"

The voice of the dwarf came out in a whisper.

"I hurt for my Granda."

The metal piece was placed once more in the fire of the forge.

"I knew I would miss him so much; not the king, not the warrior, the leader of dwarf; I would miss my grandfather. It was my grandfather that was beheaded there and then. It was not my king, or the king of my people; it was my _Granda_, _my_ Granda. And albeit I was a grown dwarf, a warrior, in that moment I was only a child who lost his Granda."

The one tending the forge made more air go into the fire to heat it and turned to the almost broken dwarf.

"Then, child, tell me, what moved you right then? Was it hate? Really?"

The place got silent for so long that the only sound was that of the creping fire in the forge hearth, until it was filled by a the sighing of the weeping dwarf.

"I've done what I've done because I loved my Granda, and dearly! I loved him and I could not stand the pain of having him dying in front of me, and I could do nothing to save him; I loved him and he died in front of my eyes, and I could do nothing! Nothing! I loved him and I could do nothing..."

The last phrases were interspersed with hard sobs, sobs of one who had buried those feelings in the deepest of his mind, and to release it was painful. He felt a gentle hand on the back of his head, bringing him closer to a welcoming shoulder where he could cry on as hard as he may. Finding out his rage against Azog was not quite due to simple hate was a relief, but made him contact with wounds he deemed buried ages ago.


	5. TA 2955, Wolfram to Ellen, Iris to Bilbo

A/N: Hello, my wonderful readers, here goes another weekly update, as promised; two letters to beat the 700 words target.

I've got no single review for the former chapter, was it too boring? Please let me know so I can improve!

Next week: Chapter 5 - T.A. 2962, Ellen to Wolfram + 2961, Bilbo to Iris

* * *

2955, Wolfram to Ellen

Microbiology Lab, anytime between dinner and biking home.

Dear Sister, how are you doing? I was surprised with your first letter, but after the girls explained to me about the Acromantulas in Mirkwood I should have known you would find a way to talk to Dumbledore and use that Gate. He didn't tell me about that one before, but then he knows so many things that it is obvious he cannot tell everyone about everything, and the Forbidden Forest is not a place to go picknick anyway.

We sold your apartment after we got a presumed death certificate for you. We put the money in an investment fund and call it the "Erebor Travelling Fund", because we will use it to finance our trip to Indonesia and anything needed or wanted to visit you. Yes, we plan to go! If there is anything you want us to bring for you, please ask in your next letter, that will be the last one before we go. Of course it is not easy to carry huge amount of stuff when traveling by air and then hiking Kelimutu mountain up, but we will do our best. We kept all your personal belongings and most of your furniture, just name what you want.

I wish I could have a movie of your Human Resources Director reaction when I told him you quit. His face went through all colors of the rainbow plus white, but settled for a weird shadow of purple. I let him vent out all possible curses he knew in three foreign languages, tough I had to correct him in the pronunciation of some of them. Then I let him vent out all derogative adjectives he had in mind before I told him you were "missing" and "presumably dead", then he got definitely tomb stone gray. It was fun, thank you so much!

I'm completely enthralled by the news of having a nephew and one more coming! I thought I would never have a boy to spoil as much as you spoiled my girls; I know it will be so a short time, but when we go visiting you, be sure I'll spoil them to be worthy the years we've been apart!

Lily is slowly coming back from her depression, though she never shows any interest in company of any kind. She is attending her architecture classes and when she is at home, while not studying, she just draws wonderful landscapes and mountains. Me and Iris are trying to drag her to a boffering training with your former clan, maybe she could at least pour out her frustration with sparring.

Iris is doing fine, if I knew a trip to Middle-Earth would do her so good I'd dropped her there years ago.

I got some mice from the neighbor lab, so the owl will have a nice lunch when it comes to exchange letters.

Love,

Wolfram

* * *

2955, Iris to Bilbo

Bilbo,

I'll kill you!

Aunty sent a letter last year and you didn't. I will forgive you this time because you didn't know there would be a post service.

I finished highschool. I'm not going to college because there isn't any college that I can finish in two years, so I'm attending all tech courses I can that will be useful when I'm in the Shire. Hope there is need for a wannabe healer or midwife? Yes, I know more about healing plants than Lily already, and next month I'll start the practical stage of my assistant obstetrician tech course.

I hope you noticed how well I'm writing in tengwar, I have been training. Actually, I'm writing my notes from the courses I'm attending all in tengwar. It is funny when you find out that one can learn anything you want if you simply dedicate yourself enough to it.

I gave up getting my driver's license, as it will be of no use in the Shire.

I won a prize in the latest LARP camp I took part, Fili would be proud of me, none beat me at two weapon duels. It made me happy and sad at the same time, you can imagine.

I'll write you again next year, if and only if I receive a nice letter from you this time.

Remember I love you.

Iris Glory, daughter of Wolfram


	6. TA 2962, Ellen to Wolfram, Bilbo to Iris

A/N: Next week: Chapter 6 - T.A. 2962, Wolfram to Ellen + 2962, Iris to Bilbo

The time when the Gate of Erebor opens to Earth is near...

* * *

Ellen: Sister of Wolfram, aunt of Lily and Iris, wife of Kíli; E.A. adult; H.A. 36

Wolfram: Brother of Ellen, father of Lily and Iris; H.A. 48

Thorin "Knee": Firstborn son of Kíli and Ellen; D.A. 19; H.A. 11

Frérin: Second son of Kíli; D.A. 14; H.A. 9

Lyn: Third child of Kíli, his first daughter; D.A. 8; H.A. 5

Fíli: Fourth child of Kíli; D.A. 3; H.A. baby

Firc: Daughter of Bofur; D.A. 9; H.A. 6

Zifur: Son of Bofur; D.A. 3; H.A. baby

Difur and Dibur: Sons of Bombur; D.A. 7; H.A. toddlers

Rori: Son of Ori; D.A. 6; H.A. toddler

* * *

2962, Ellen to Wolfram

Erebor,

So, dear Brother, I must suppose you already knew Dumbledore before my cliff-falling adventure, and didn't tell me _nothing_. Thank so much for your _astounding_ confidence in me! If I hear one more time that I was not nerd enough, I'll lock you in a dungeon until you regret! But, at least my guess that Dumbly is a NerdNet guy too was right, hah!

Be prepared to spoil a _lot_ of heirs to Durin's line, as when you wrote me last time you didn't know yet that our second one was Frerin (Mahal, is he already fourteen?) and then we got Lyn, and now we have another Fili too, he was born three years ago. Dis says her grizzled hair will turn green if she has to have more grandchildren to look after, but it surely helps her to stay lean and fit. It gets even better when Bofur's girl Firc (she is one year older than our Lyn) and her cousins, Bombur's twins Difur and Dibur (these are one year younger than Lyn) plus Nari, son of Ori, that is just six, come to play along. At least when Nari comes Dori uses to lend a hand too, in his old mother hen style. It uses to be when Knee and Frerin escape to Dwalin with the escuse of sparring, and I take Fili to play with Zifur, Bofur's second one, as they are the same age and ain't grown up enough to drive Zirc crazy.

I'm glad to know I'm "presumably dead" to Earth now, as I think my real life begun when I found myself in Middle-Earth, and my former life was just to get prepared for what was to come, and to value who I'd come to know. Thank you so much, beloved Brother, for being there for me all those years!

And the girls, how are they faring? I'm looking forward to see you all, there is so much to talk about, I sure am happy here, but I miss you and the girls. Well, I guess it is only seven years to go, now! I'm sending a list of suggestions attached, you see what you are able to bring and/or use your imagination. If you only bring yourself and the girls it will be enough. By the way, Radagast came to visit us last summer and asked to send you word to not forget your staff when you come.

Love for ever,

Ellen Dwarvenheart, Fundinul

* * *

2961, Bilbo to Iris

Hobbiton, 2nd Winterfilth, 1361 Shire Reckoning

My dearest Iris,

It is the memory of your love for me that feeds my hope of one day being really alive, as I haven't been since you departed. Yes, I'm a helpless romantic, and you can punch me for it along hours if you want.

I hope your decision in not going to College because of lack of time to finish it before your coming, with the agreement of your father, exempts me from your aunt's wrath, as I expect to keep my heart right where it is, no soup spoon close to it at all. For what you wrote me seven years ago I'm sure you are quite a skilled healer for hobbit standards. Your skills will be more than welcome in Hobbiton, but you would be welcome just for being who you are; anyway, I believe being a healer will allow you to get acquainted to more people and make your days less boring than they would be just being at my side at Bag-End.

Well, I'm saying all this because I believe it means your father has agreed to you coming to be with me. If he has not, please warn him that I will steal you for me, as a good burglar should. Now I have hope rekindled that my life will not end dully, my only fun to fill the youngsters' heads with adventurous stories just to get their parents annoyed. It looks like not being completely respectable by mature hobbits only makes me more interesting for the younger ones. I have a lot of young friends amongst my younger cousins, both from the Took and the Brandybuck side, plus some not related at all.

I have almost regular news from the Company, as their halls in Ered Luin were not abandoned, although most of the dwarves decided to move to Erebor. Their trading route crosses the Shire, but most people do not even take notice of it, for the dwarves use to cross our towns at night. Of course some of them stop here and so I'm always provided with news, and it is so that I won't have to go to Erebor to deliver this letter. It may comfort you too that you will have regular news form your Aunt Ellen, Little Brother Kili and that pack of youngsters of them. For what I have heard about your little cousins, you and your sister have never been any kind of brats at all!

I plan to start my long expected journey to Erebor with a fair precedence, so I can stay for a while in Rivendell before crossing the Misty Mountains. I want to spend some time with that big bear of a friend Beorn, too, exchanging honey cake recipes, and drink a Dorvinion wine with Legolas and Tauriel with no hurry at all. Of course we both will do all this together on our way back. I really hope Gandalf will be available by this time, he is a very nice company, and uses to visit me once upon a while.

Actually, he is right here, as he came for my humble birthday party yesterday. Yep, I turned seventy-one, dear Iris, and I hope you don't think I'm getting too old for you, because my feeling for you is the same of when we first met, but I must admit that by now I would have stolen you and lied your age rather than agree in waiting twenty-eight years for your possible coming back.

Yearning for you,

Always,

Bilbo Baggins

* * *

A/N: As suggested by Borys68, I'm adding a little summary for you dear readers not to get lost on the OCs. In each chapter, it will contain a list with the OCs and characters named by Master Tolkien but not overly written about, if at all; I'll list the character's name, affiliation, age in one's own original race and equivalent in human years, noted as D.A. (dwarven age), Ho.A. (hobbit age), E.A. (elf age, if needed; elves will mostly be referred only as children, younglings, adults and mature, if needed at all), N.A. (numenorean human age, for the Dúnedain) and H.A. (human age, the standard to what all other ages will be compared). I'll not use any unchallengeable mathematical formula to convert ages, so the characters will be depicted mostly by my own feeling of what they should be/act at their equivalent in human age. I'll put this note at the end of each chapter so not to tire everybody by the repetition, but allowing people who by any reason skip chapters to have this information, and the list at the beginning of the chapter.

Have a nice reading and, if you liked, please review!


	7. TA 2962 Wolfram to Ellen, Iris to Bilbo

Helo, wonderful Readers! Here goes the last set of letters before the legendary Gate of Erebor opens again. This means next week you can read either the second Tale of Mahal''s Forge or about a party of hobbits leaving the Shire. The choice is yours, Readers, review or PM what you prefer!

* * *

2962, Wolfram to Ellen

Parasitology Lab, after finishing a round of DNA sequencing.

Dear Sister, I have already complained to Dumbledore but I must warn you to not send an owl that cannot differentiate between a mouse and a hamster. Next time I'll lock the girls' hamster away from where the owl may fly, if they ever are willing to have a hamster pet again.

I was about to make that old joke about you and Kili not having TV at home, but it is obvious nobody has TV in Middle-Earth. _Four _ younglings? This not increase in birth rate, it is population explosion!

Iris plans firmly to stay in Middle-Earth, with Bilbo. For what she has grown in responsibility and focus on targets, I really must concede her wish, even if it will be hard on me to lose one more girl of my family. Seemingly, Bilbo has serious intentions to her. I ask you to provide anything needed for a formal wedding at Erebor, as there will be no time for me and Lily go to Hobbiton to attend a wedding there and be back to Erebor in time to go back home before the Gate closes again, and I have not found other Gate nearer the Shire and I won't dare using the map. There are things that worry me about Iris marrying Bilbo, which I cannot mention here due to the agreement of non-revealing future issues, but she says if you three changed what was to happen before, she can change things that are yet to happen. I hope she is right.

Lily is getting better, already working on her monograph, I don't know where from she got the idea but she is writing about ancient mines architecture. She is looking forward to our visit, I have seen her oiling her sword and polishing it's scabbard. By the way, I forgot to mention, Iris's twin swords did not turn back to boffers when we came back. I don't know what it might mean, tough. I hope we will not have to stand another war when we are visiting you, dear sister.

I ask you please to provide dry towels and somewhere for us to change right after we come out of Mirror Lake, I don't want to climb your endless stairs in wet clothes again.

Love,

Wolfram Nydason

* * *

2962, Iris to Bilbo

Bilbo,

I'll kill you! Your last letter almost made me cry! It was not fair!

Just let me get there and I'll help you to make this Lobelia regret the day she put her filthy hands on your silverware. You may be soft and just disappear when she is in sight, but I have no family tie to her to keep me from pestering her. If your Took buddies are the kind you told me before, I'm sure I'll get them to help me into it, too.

Actually, I think they may be good company for you when you travel to Erebor to meet me. I'm not well acquainted to hobbit uses yet, but I think it would be natural to have kin along for the ceremony. What kind of priest do hobbits have? Devoted to Erú or to a Valar? Or will we have a dwarven ceremony? But then, we have not had that Compromise Speech, nor braids! Can we do it by proxy? Lily would know the words and the way of braiding my hair, but who would do it for you? Aaarrrggghhh, there would be no time, because even if this were to happen, the Compromise Speech must be held one year and a day at least before the weeding, and we would not have how to communicate if we agreed with this or not, or even to know if a dwarven priest would agree to attend our wedding! No, forget dwarves, you chose what kind of ceremony is fit, all I know is that I will be with you at last. Just one more year, Bilbo, and I'll be there!

Lily sends a sisterly kiss on you cheek and says she is getting better, but I can tell you she is still on 'out of business' mode. If she goes on this way, it will take her another fall into Middle-Earth and a handsome mischievous dwarf to heal her, like it was with Aunty Ellen.

Remember I love you.

Iris Glory, daughter of Wolfram


	8. Tales of Mahal's forgeII Lay of the Rain

Hi, beautiful readers, here goes the second Tale of Mahal's Forge, let us see what our favorite dwarf has to find out today.

Plus, one more poem from Lily's notebook, hope you enjoy it.

Next week: The Gate of Erebor is about to open, and there is a long road from the Shire to the Lonely Mountain. Better to start this journey at once! Let the new Adventure begin!

* * *

Tales of Mahal's forge, II - The Love of a Child

The sobs had quieted, the shaking body had stilled, but he wasn't over yet with the dark haired dwarf, and albeit caring and loving, he would not let him rest until some things were settled. He knew this one was one tough to deal with, and he deemed it better to finish that at once. After things were cleared out, it could take any time to fix things further, but things had to be made clear as soon as possible, before that child could turn into his usual stubbornness. He wiped the face of the already stabilized dwarf with a thumb and stood up to take a pair of mugs in a nearby workbench. For the first time, he poured wine in both mugs.

"Here, child, this will do you good."

The dwarf took the mug with a wary look, because he never tasted the wine of the strange flagon; but, if it was being freely offered to him, he deemed it would do him no harm.

"Now that we have it clear that you indeed knew how to love, tell me a bit more about not learning how to be loved."

A small sip of the wine revealed a taste that reminded him of forest, of rain-wet earth, of the warmth of a welcoming house at the end of a day at the forge. Nothing like Dori would ever explain the exquisite bouquet of a wine. Another sip and there was the smell of burning wood in a stove, mixed will a rich meat and celeriac broth, making his mouth water with expectation. He opened his eyes and looked at his Maker, becoming suspicious of the wine.

"It will not hurt you. Drink, child."

He took in a somewhat bolder draught, and the rich wine spilled around his mouth, with a taste that brought to him a mild scent of lavender and the feeling of soft and silky strands of hair in his hands. The lavender scent was from that silky hair he caressed, deftly plaiting it to get it out of the face of a small youngling snug in his lap, but very delicately so not to pull the thin hair and hurt the child. He let the wine wash down his throat, and there was not a single drop of bitterness in his mouth anymore. Another draught brought him the touch of a wooden bowl in his left hand, and a small silver spoon in his right, carefully feeding the dwarfling in his lap of the meaty broth that smelt so good and homely. He was so tired from the day at the forge that his hand dropped to his side after the youngling had eaten some spoonfuls of broth, but the hand holding the bowl was steady, not letting it fall as well as keeping the child from falling backwards.

The owner of the forge poured more wine into the mug, quietly. The dwarf lifted his eyes to him, resolute, and drank most of the wine down. It tasted of warm broth given into his mouth by a small and caring hand, still not fully able to handle the spoon properly, but grabbing it anyway and feeding the grown up dwarf as if it was his duty, not the reverse; he felt the broth spilling on his beard and he didn't care, because it tasted of the best wine he could ever imagine. He took in the rest of the wine in the mug and he felt his thirst quenched for the first time in a long while, at the same time filling his stomach with a warm broth that smelt of wood fire and meat and celeriac, and a warmth over his shoulders as a blanket was placed there by the same steady hands that took the bowl from his hand and whipped away the spilled broth from his beard. The last drops of wine tasted of small hands that kept grabbing his tunic while someone tried to carry the youngling away, hushing him quiet, to no avail. "_I wan' Unca! Le' me be with Unca, Ma, p'ease?_"

His eyes kept on the bottom of the empty mug, unblinking. More wine was poured into it, but he just kept looking at it, not at all willing to drink more right now, just tasting the warmth of the last draughts. At last the words found his way out, quietly.

"I... I had the best masters to teach me to be loved. I have been loved, more than I ever deserved..."

"Don't use those words! Never say you didn't deserve what was freely given to you, moreover if what was given to you was the most noble of all feelings! " The wine-pourer cut his phrase. "Now, repeat what you said first, and hear your own words."

He gulped, took in a deep breath, and repeated, very slowly.

"_I had the best masters to teach me to be loved."_

"And did you learn? Do you know how it is to be loved?"

Ashamed of his first outburst of self-pity, he nodded, agreeing.

"Yes. I know what it is to be loved."

Silence. The one who questioned him poured himself more wine and drunk it smilingly.

"If you ever feel inclined to it, just take more wine."

"Thank you." But his eyes kept to his hands, and to the mug in them. He had a lot to think about.

* * *

**Lay of the Rain**

(From Lily daughter of Wolfram's notebook)

The scars I bear in my face

With pride won in battle;

My prize is the pain;

Circumstances don't matter.

I welcome the rain:

Wash away my sorrow;

Bring a bright tomorrow;

I've got no yesterday.

Empty hands to free my way

Against all warnings;

I'll face the storm again

Until I face the morning;

Tears and laughter feel the same:

Wash away my sorrow;

Bring a bright tomorrow;

Today is gone away.

My feet in mud, my hands in clay;

Crawling to reach the light;

My heart will stand no more delay:

I'll try to stand and fight.

In dreams and songs I hope and pray:

Wash away my sorrow;

Bring a bright tomorrow.

...But tomorrow never came.


	9. Chapter 9 - 2969, Shire

Helo, wonderful readers, it's time for our dear Bilbo to say "Im going to and adventure!" again, and we all know most of what happened in the last 28 years from our peeks in the letters the owl carried.

Next week we will follow a planing meeting in Erebor. Beware of spies!

By the way, I messed somethings up and had to repost last chapters, those who liked Lily's Waiting Song may like to go back there and read her Lay of the Rain.

* * *

Drogo Baggins: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 61; H.A. 39

Dudo Baggins: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 58; H.A. 37

Beryl Took: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 40; H.A. 25

Paladin Took: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 36; H.A. 23

Ferumbras Took: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 53; H.A. 34

Ferdinand Took: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 29; H.A. 18

Primula Brandibuck: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 49; H.A. 31

Saradoc Brandibuck: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 29; H.A. 18

Merimac Brandibuck: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 27; H.A. 17

* * *

After all the trouble he had when returning from his first journey to Erebor, Bilbo was well aware of what he should do this time so as not to have his beautiful hole and all his stuff being auctioned in some months of absence. So, he qualified his good neighbour Hamfast Gamgee as his proxy for all purposes, as the Gaffer (as Hamfast was known) had a dislike for the Sackville-Baggins sidhe of the family he assured Bilbo would not be surprised with his house being sold to them due to any of Lobelias' tricks on him.

With this settled, he provided the next important thing apart from having a home to bring someone long expected to; as for Shire uses, if he was to marry, he should have witnesses, and witnesses he sought amongst the ones dearest to him, and reliable too. To be close to Lobelia made him dismiss his close cousins Odo Proudfoot and Falco Chubb-Baggins, as they were the first to name him Mad Baggins when he came back; his second cousins Drogo and his brother Dudo jumped up at once when called, but Posco was less prone to adventure, being a rightful Baggins from head to toe; from the Took side of the family there were Paladin and one of his older sisters, Beryl, and their cousin Ferumbras. This gave him five rightful witnesses, but he needed one more to have Shire laws complied.

Primula Brandybuck was the one to save him, and to Beryl too, as it would be improper for her to travel alone with a male group, even if one of them was her own brother; but then, Primula would not travel with none of her own family to stand for her, and so her nephews Saradoc and Merimac went too. They were the sons of Rorimac, the oldest of the eight siblings of whom Primula was the youngest.

And Ferdinand Took offered himself, as being born the same year as Saradoc made them were very close friends, beside cousins. Ferdinand was son of Sigismond, a nephew of Bilbo's mother Belladona. The three Brandybuck boys and Ferdinand Took were not of age yet, and to their parents' despair off they were all very fond of cousin Bilbo.

And so it was that in a bright day in March four Tooks eagerly left the Great Smials to meet three Bagginses of Hobbiton at the Three Farthing Stone, by the East Road they would tread for some days until reaching Brandyhall in Buckland. There Old Rory, as Primula's older brother was known, lectured them all, plus his sons and his youngest sister, of what was and what wasn't proper for them when on the road and more than this, when visiting Bilbo's friends. Rory was one who would have had his share of adventure if he could, being son of Mirabella Took, younger sister of Belladonna, Bilbo's mother, but as headhobbit of the family he really had to pretend he was serious, at least in front of people.

Next day a slightly hangovered party left Brandyhall at a good pace, fresh ponies granting them speed and means to carry all the food they (and their mothers, by the way) thought would be necessary until their next replenishing stop, that would be in Bree. To Bilbo, who had gone through hell and high water with the dwarves, it looked like enough for the whole journey, but he just shook his head, amused, as he remembered the day he left his hole almost thirty years before with not even a handkerchief in his pocket. If anyone, even Gandalf, told him beforehand what his journey would be like, he would not really believe it, so he let it be for his cousins.

It was only when they were some hours of travel to Bree that the first noticeably incident happened. Paladin was pestering his sister that she should behave properly (to what she asked him _when_ had it been that she didn't) and young Saradoc and Merimac begun to worry that their aunt Primula, actually twenty years their senior, should be protected in that strange land of Bree, where Big People walked along with hobbits and where the Greenway crossed the East Road they themselves where traveling. Drogo and Dudo had made that far more than once, some of these times along with Bilbo, to take a proper ale in one of the famous Bree inns, and Ferumbras had mentioned that he also was well acquainted to Bree, so it was not really a foreign land. Even so Bilbo, being the one in charge of them, worried about his female cousins, and came up with an idea.

"The Prancing Pony has guestrooms for Little People, we can stay there, but I would rather not have you girls alone in a room, the inn is respectable but I'd feel more peaceful if one of us stayed there with you."

"Surely I stay with my sister, Bilbo, and I think Primula wouldn't mind having me as her guardian."

Ferumbras shook his head and made his point.

"You have barely grown hair in you armpit, Paladin, how do you think you can be the ladies' guardian?"

Most of the party laughed at the statement that made the young hobbit's face turn crimson. He was just three years past his coming of age, and younger than both his sister and cousin. Bilbo looked at the situation and solved it easily.

"So, Ferum the Brave, you will be the one in charge, then. Just don't forget you'll not be allowed to leave them alone while we drink our lot of ale!"

"Hey, this is not fair!"

Beryl would have elbowed her cousin's ribs if they were not on ponies.

"If you are a very nice guardian and don't tell anything to our parents, me and Prim will grant you the time to drink as much ale as there is room for it in your belly."

"How?"

Asked a very interested Ferumbras; it was Primula to answer, with a sheepish smile.

"We can make you company in the common room of the inn while you drink your lot, if you don't mention we are drinking our lot too."

"Lads, you are talking as if you were a bunch of _tweens_ doing some mischief hidden from your parents!"

"Come on, Drogo, you are one to behave like that even nowadays." Dudo chuckled at his older brother, who grinned in return.

"Only when I have to cover up the troubles you get stuck in, mop-head."

"…Said the kettle to the pot…"

Bilbo was glad to have them as chosen companions to be with him in this journey, and smiled at himself. The youngest of them, Merimac, was not even born when he stormed out of Bag End almost twenty-eight years before, and most of them where from toddlers to small lads when he came back. Drogo, the oldest of them beside himself, had just come of age a week before the gray wizard marked his freshly painted door so the dwarves would know where to throw plates, ravage a pantry and mostly annoy a hobbit. He missed them dearly.

Of course he had some contact with them, since the dwarves traced a commercial route between Erebor and the Blue Mountains, but there was carting only quite few times per year, and not always someone willing to stop at the Shire was in charge of it, then he missed his opportunities of sending a letter to his friends. Seldom, though, one of the Company came along, and stayed by him for a time, and they had time to exchange news, gossip about their friends and chat about their first adventure for days.

Sometimes, though, he took his time to wander in the woods in the seasons when the dwarven caravans where expected, and surprised them coming out of the blue and asking them to take a letter or two (or half a dozen, most often) to Erebor. That was when an ashamed caravan leader would remember he had been asked to deliver certain amount of letters at least at the Shire main post office, if not personally delivering them in Bag End. Bilbo's good heart usually let it be and never mentioned it in any of his letters to the high council of Erebor, since he was sure some kind of punishment would be due to an unwilling caravan leader that skipped his post duties; but then, the halfling knew how much the pressure of longing one's home after months of traveling in the wild could make one take the wrong decisions.

Considering the commercial route and what news he had in recent years, Bilbo believed his journey would be quite smoother than the first one, else he would not dream of bringing his closest friends along, who happened to be his cousins also. But he really would like to have the company of Gandalf on the road, even if expecting things to be smoother this time; the old gray wizard had become a very close friend of his, one he could talk about anything without being judged by it as he would by regular shire-folk, and even his cousins were kind of confused by what he said sometimes.

So it was that they reached Bree at a bright spring afternoon, left their ponies in the stable of The Prancing Pony inn and managed to get hobbit-sized rooms for all of them. A good bath later, they all were ready to enjoy the common room and taste Bree's famous ale along with a likewise hobbit-sized dinner, which meant, double the one of the Big Folk's.

They were quite contented with their pork chops with potato chips and mugs of ale. Saradoc had found out they served it in pints and ordered it for all of them, to his aunt's dismay.

"Sar, what do you think me and Beryl are supposed to do with all this ale?"

"To drink it."

He blinked at Primula, stunned for her not seeing the obvious, and gulfed half a mug down. Ferdinand, being ass and pants with him, had to mimic him and half of his pint was done too. Bilbo shook his head, smilingly.

"It doesn't matter if your parents are not here to scold you, a good hangover will be enough punishment if you go beyond your limits."

"Cousin, considering all ale we have drunk at Bag End in the last years, it doesn't seem dangerous to get a hangover only because we are not in the Shire. You trained us well."

The mature hobbit had to agree, and anyway he was in no mood to be angry at whoever it could be. He was travelling to fulfill an old dream, and he was glad to have his kin coming along, drunk or not. But someone else had other ideas.

Even having claimed to drink their lot too, Beryl and Primula left the common room only a couple of mugs after dinner, and poor Ferumbras had to leave too because of his promise to be their 'guardian'; he managed to have a pint of ale taken to their rooms, anyway, and the promise of a red wine bottle for the journey.

Soon after they left Bilbo ordered one more round of ale, despite his own lecture, and noticed a man in a corner, hood down almost to his eyes, long legs stretched and a lit pipe in his hand. It was the scent of the tobacco that made him look twice, as he knew Old Toby's scent from afar, and didn't expect it to be smoked by one of the Big People save Gandalf. He made a tentative gesture towards his table and the man nodded, standing up and approaching them.

Bilbo didn't know exactly why he had invited the stranger to their table, as having him staring at them should be more a warning than a reason, but now it was too late. That one was big even for the Big People, even if shorter than Gandalf, but the hobbit guessed the old wizard was not exactly human. He removed the hood, letting his dark shoulder long hair show, and bowed his head courteously.

"Your friends should be wary of their hangover if you are to make a good pace on the road tomorrow, I dare say."

The hobbit bowed his head slightly in response and looked the man suspiciously.

"What makes you think we are to be on the road tomorrow, lad?"

The man rolled his eyes.

"If you intended to make your journey a secret, you should have warned your friends to keep it down."

Actually, they had no real worry about secrecy, but when the man spoke Bilbo immediately perceived they could have put themselves in danger. He forgot Bree was not the Shire, even if the inn was as welcoming as he remembered from other ale nights. He would not be back to the Shire next day or the other, he was to take a long road to the other side of the Misty Mountains, and along with two female cousins. Even so, he was not to be put down by the longshanked stranger.

"And what does our hangover matter to you, pray?"

"Actually, nothing, but I'll have no complaints about headaches and unsettled stomachs on the road."

Now Bilbo was flustered.

"And who, in name of goodness, said you would be with us on the road tomorrow?"

The man opened his mouth as if to say something but just let his breath out, shaking his head, apologizing.

"I'm sorry, Mister Baggins, I worried about your company's well being and forgot my good manners."

"And who told you my name, or why do you guess this is my name?"

"I remember you, though you may not remember me. I was sent by Gandalf to escort you and your company at least until Rivendell. My name is Estel. I was the boy the dwarf-lady gave _chocolate_ at the house of Elrond when the company of Thorin Oakenshield lingered there."

Bilbo looked at the man, wide eyed, remembering the only child he ever saw in Imladris. The things the man said were not a guess someone could make to trap him, only someone who had been there, or who at least had real information about that journey, could have known. But the resemblance was unmistakable, now that he knew what to look for. The hobbit stood up from his seat, face-palming himself and making a welcoming gesture for the young man to sit by them.

"Estel... Elrond's step son! Lad, you have grown!"

The tall man smiled, glad for the warm acceptance.

"Well, I thing that's what I was supposed to do these last decades..."

"By the way, lad, how old are you now? I must admit I have no clue."

"I just turned thirty-eight some weeks ago. But don't misjudge me, I'm considered already come of age for several years, for my race."

The hobbit smiled at the young man. It was obvious his young age, even if beckoned as adult, still meant a lot of good-willingness and optimism. But then a bell rang.

"Why did Gandalf ask you to escort us? It's been a long time since I was there, but I know the landmarks we have to look for."

Estel's face got sombre for a second.

"The road may not be as dangerous as it was when you went there first time, but it is not completely safe, and considering there are no real fighters amongst your party..."

Bilbo looked at his kin, agreeing with the man. Drogo, Dudo and Paladin were singing a tavern song, not completely tuneful, while Ferdinand, Saradoc and Merimac were making a drinking contest. Paladin was able to use a bow, but didn't bring his one; he himself brought Sting, thanking goodness elvish blades didn't rust, as he didn't have use for it in the last twenty-eight years. There was no ounce of warrior amongst them.

"You are right. And there are two women travelling with us, also. We should have been more wary."

"That you should, Mister Baggins, but past cannot be undone. Let us take care from now on."

"Bilbo."

"What?"

"Just call me Bilbo."

"Ah, well." Estel accepted a mug of ale the waiter handled him. "It may be safer for the women not to go into this journey."

The hobbit waved his hands, knowing into what swamp he was treading.

"No way to leave Primula and Beryl behind! You don't know them, once they settle their minds on something, they are more stubborn than a dwarf!"

"I was not thinking to leave them behind. It would be unfair, to say the least. But it would be better if they travel in disguise, so not to draw attention on them."

"This can be provided."

* * *

A/N: As suggested by Borys68, I'm adding a little summary for you dear readers not to get lost on the OCs. In each chapter, it will contain a list with the OCs and characters named by Master Tolkien but not overly written about, if at all; I'll list the character's name, affiliation, age in one's own original race and equivalent in human years, noted as D.A. (dwarven age), Ho.A. (hobbit age), E.A. (elf age, if needed; elves will mostly be referred only as children, younglings, adults and mature, if needed at all), N.A. (numenorean human age, for the Dúnedain) and H.A. (human age, the standard to what all other ages will be compared). I'll not use any unchallengeable mathematical formula to convert ages, so the characters will be depicted mostly by my own feeling of what they should be/act at their equivalent in human age. I'll put this note at the end of each chapter so not to tire everybody by the repetition, but allowing people who by any reason skip chapters to have this information, and the list at the beginning of the chapter.

Have a nice reading and, if you liked, please review!


	10. Chapter 10 - Planning Meeting

Helo, wonderful readers, here comes first chapter in Erebor, hope you enjoy it. Kids grow up and youngsters can be brats, but they learned from the best!

I thank you all for your follows, favorites and reviews, if you have scenes you'd like to be set into the story just PM me, if they fit into the plot I'll make my best to write them down.

Next week: Bilbo and cousins reach Rivendel and Ferumbras loses a bet...

* * *

Dís: Daughter of Thráin, Kíli's mother; D.A. 209  
Ellen: Sister of Wolfram, aunt of Lily and Iris, wife of Kíli  
Thorin "Knee": Firstborn son of Kíli and Ellen; D.A. 26; H.A. 14  
Frérin: Second son of Kíli; D.A. 21; H.A. 13  
Lyn: Third child of Kíli, his first daughter; D.A. 15; H.A. 10  
Fíli: Fourth child of Kíli; D.A. 10; H.A. 7  
Kim: Fifth child of Kíli, his second daughter; D.A. 4; H.A. 3  
Leri: Baby-sitter/child-carer; Young adult  
Zirc: Wife of Bofur

* * *

A flicker in a mirror on the stone wall caught Dís' eye and she put her embroidery down in a wicker basket, then headed for the family chambers, quick and sure-footed albeit her two-hundred-nine years, that showed only in some silver strands of her hair and some wrinkles around her eyes when she laughed. Thankfully, in the last twenty and some years she had had a lot of reasons to laugh, and she didn't mind the wrinkles at all. Her daughter-in-law was making her youngest one sleep, so she didn't want to call out loud for her. She opened the not quite closed door carefully and whispered.

"Ellen?"

The tall elf turned and smiled at the dwarf lady, still holding a brunette dwarfling in her arms with the aid of a cotton sling devised to carry the child with less strain to her arms, spreading the weight along her back and shoulders. She whispered back.

"Yes, Ma?"

Dís always smiled when Ellen called her that way, as if she was her own mother rather than the mother of her husband. Then she signalled in Inglishmêk so not to disturb the child.

"_They're coming back, will you come along to the meeting?_"

Ellen's hands were occupied, so she whispered back.

"Sure. Can you please fetch me Leri to watch Kim while we are out? Kim just closed her eyes, I'll wait a bit before I lay her down, else she will wake up again."

"_I will. I'll call Balin in my way to the Council chamber, send Leri and ask Zirc if she can keep Lyn and Fili a little more than we planned._"

"Thank you, Ma. I'll ask the kitchen to send a snack over there, they will be hungry."

"_Kili is always hungry_." Dís stated matter-of-factly and left the room.

Ellen smiled at her mother-in-law's statement while pacing slowly across the room to make her fifth child get deeply asleep before putting her down to the cradle. She had helped to raise her nieces, the younger one since birth, but dwarven children development was different from what she was used to, being born human in another world. Like if they took longer to grow up so their bodies could properly build their heavy bones, strong muscles to carry them, and develop the fine motor coordination that allowed the dwarves to be known as the finer handicrafters in Middle-Earth. She had no experience at all with elven children, and sometimes questioned herself how her kids would develop, being half-blood. Even with her first-born it was hard to tell how he would mature, as being just twenty-six he was not expected to have grown a beard yet, but his uneven voice betrayed that he should soon show signs of it. All her kids had slightly pointed ears, not quite elvish style, but not completely dwarfish either. Even Lord Elrond was unable to say how they would develop, when they spent some months in Imladris, years before, when Lyn was not born yet.

She decided the toddler was well on her sleep and put her down in the cradle, covering her with a fluffy blanket but keeping her hands free. Kim always got upset when her hands were stuck under the blanket, so the best way to keep her sleeping was not to dare to cover her hands. Little bit of self-opinion, that one. A quiet scratch on the door announced the baby-sitter was there, and the elf left the little one to her sleep.

"Hi, Leri!"

Ellen greeted the young dwarf with a smile.

"Milady!"

Leri bowed as expected, but Ellen never got the patience for that formality with the ones closest to her, and the baby-sitter was definitely her right hand there. Actually, _two_ right hands sometimes, as he knew how to deal with the grown up children as well as with babies. They headed to the main living room while Ellen gave him some instructions, and then she left the house with a smiling nod and hand wave to the guards at the door. She never got quite used to have her house ostensibly watched that way, but it was the use in that culture and she didn't have much a say in this case. It was the safety of the king and his family, the heirs of Durin, that mattered.

She got to the main kitchen and asked for sandwiches, seed cakes and cookies to be sent, things that could even spread crumbs but would not get sticky in the hands of them and on the table and paperwork, plus tea and water. They would curse her for not sending ale, but they would need to have their minds clear for the meeting. Afterwards, there would be plenty of time to drink their share and a bit more, with a more meaty dinner that she already asked the kitchen to prepare.

Almost everyone of the Company was in the Council chamber, plus Dís and Gimli, son of Glóin. He was the only descendent of a member of the Company to have come of age yet, and they had agreed to Glóin have him training in politic issues, so he was allowed to attend that kind of meeting, even if without a say in them. Dís was more than Kili's mother, she was a counsellor used to kingship matters, not having being formally trained to it like her deceased brothers, but self-schooled by sheer power of observation and eavesdropping. She had been a worthy asset to her brother Thorin when he ruled in the Blue Mountains , and had been left in charge when he went to the quest that took his life. Ellen greeted everyone informally, as there was none outside their close circle of family and long time friends, and took her seat beside Kili, talking to him quietly.

"You look tired, love."

He took her hand in his in answer, sending her a wry smile.

"You would be tired too if you had Bard and the Master complaining in your ears for as long as I had today."

She shook her head.

"If things are to be like they have been in later years, we will have a lot of it along the season."

The dwarf agreed with a nod, but then they were disturbed by Dwalin arriving with two loud companions at his heels. The taller of them, barely reaching Dwalin's chest height, complained.

"But Uncle, how are we supposed to learn to rule a kingdom if we cannot attend the meetings?"

Dwalin tried to shove them back out of the room, but when he succeeded with one of them the other slipped in.

"_First_ you grow a beard, _then_ you attend meetings."

"But, Uncle!"

Now the youngest one complained too.

"It will take _ages_ for us to grow beards! It is not fair!"

"Then, it will take _ages_ for you to attend meetings. Now let us adults work, in Durin's name!"

The two were not quite convinced that they failed in their attempt, but Ellen rose from her seat and looked sternly at them.

"Knee, Frérin, stop pestering your Uncle and go home now and take a bath after the training. Leri is there, but you two don't be noisy, your sister is sleeping."

"But Ma, Leri is the _baby-sitter_, we are not _babies_ anymore!"

"Then stop acting like if you were. You heard your Uncle, we have work to do here."

"But, Ma!"

Kili lifted just one eyebrow to them and they left the room, pouting. A moment after the boys left, grumpy and mumbling, said adults loosened the chuckles they all were holding for the determination of the youngsters in accompanying them. The young dwarf king spoke, bemused.

"It's becoming each day harder to keep serious while they pester you this way, Mister Dwalin."

The strong warrior shook his head.

"They were sparring with me when I was called, and they pestered me from the training room to here. If I hadn't trained enough with you and your brother, they would have got the best off me."

More laughter of the assembled Company. Glóin made his point.

"How do you manage to steer them without a word, Kili, when even Ellen has trouble to put them in their places, sometimes?"

Kili sent out a sheepish smile, stroking his short beard.

"I learned with Thorin. If it worked with us, it is bound to work with them"

So many years after the Battle of Five Armies, even if the pain of not having their beloved ones around was still there, they were already able to mention and even to kindly joke about them without tears fighting to release themselves. Actually, to joke about the deceased ones was a way to honour them, to say they were still there, in their hearts.

As usual, Dís took the floor, regarding them all as kids, to which even Óin, Balin and Bifur knew better than to say anything. They all loved and respected her dearly, a matriarch in a patriarchal culture, bearing more bullocks than many an experienced warrior.

"So, so, now that I have your rapt attention, and I deserve no less than this, let us move on to the subject of the tiresome meeting with the Men of Dale and Long-Lake, that as much as I know is getting worse than it has been last year. Kili?"

Her son stood up and went to a wide board out of a smooth greenish stone set on the wall where Ori had drawn with black ink a very detailed map of Erebor and surroundings, as far as the Misty Mountains to the West to Iron Hills to the East, and from the Gray Mountains in the North to the southern borders of Mirkwood in the South. He took a piece of chalk and started to sign some places as he spoke, with different marks for each year he mentioned.

"We had timid orc raids two years ago here and here. It was unexpected and we just reacted, clearing out the rubbish. Last year we had orc raids here, here, and here too; this time they not only robbed food but also killed people from Dale. We sent scouting parties as soon as we had notice of what was happening, but the people who were killed will not come back. This year..." And Kili draw a line from the north of Erebor to close to Dale, circling the mountain westwards. "... we must be prepared. Long-Lake will keep the bridge up and anyone going out of town will be escorted, but they work mainly with trading and fishing, and what they have of tilling and cattle is on the east margin, and until now all the raids have come from north and north-west. This leaves to us and Dale men to scout daily this line and be prepared for raids. Besides the scouting parties we will keep brigades in readiness for it. We will not abide more attacks, and we will not lose food that took hard work to be grown, nor lives that are priceless."

"How many will Bard provide for the scouting and brigades?" Dwalin asked, making his own calculations.

"Most of his people are already working on the fields, they intend to finish harvest as quick as they may to lessen the risk. But we can count on six scouting parties and two brigades of fifty men each, full time in readiness. We must make for the rest."

"The harvest cannot be hurried at one's wish, the crops have their own time to mature. There are many growths that mature later in the season, to harvest them early would mean a loss in quality and production, to say the least."

Dori had a good knowledge in crop matters, for a dwarf, as he knew a good measure of the processes involved in brewing wine and other fine stuff.

"They intend to put more people on the fields and work less hours per day, so the maturing time would not be messed up, but the time exposed will be lessened. That's why they will have not a great quota of men for the brigades."

Nori had been in the small company that had gone to Dale the day before. His wits were always welcome when dealing with... anyone, actually. Now it was Glóin, who had been there also, who intervened.

"That is why we have to provide more scout parties and brigades. We can shift the war experienced ones from other duties to it, but this will mean less people in our own work schedules."

"Anything that can be done inside the mountain can be done at any season. The harvest must be favoured, else both men and dwarves will hunger in late winter."

Balin was quite pragmatic when it had to be. With the same sharp mind he advised the Durins for four generations, he changed swaddlings of the fifth, peeled potatoes, taught history and determined work shifts. It had not been idly that Thorin had chosen him for the quest to retake Erebor.

Right then the kitchen attendant came in with a dinner-wagon with the snacks Ellen had ordered, to what all assembled Company unassembled itself promptly to eat in the best 'back-at-Bilbo's-hole' style. The elf took a pear from her pocket and gave it small bites while making some notes on a paper, and soon Dwalin was at her side, a Bologna sandwich in one hand and another one half eaten in the other.

"You are not eating, sister."

He shove the whole sandwich in front of her after pushing her papers away with his elbow. By the uplifted eyebrows and tired sigh it was obviously not the first time it happened.

"I'm eating fruit, brother."

"This is not _proper_ food."

The half eaten pear was taken and thrown to the general direction of the table, hitting Ori's head and being caught in the air by Bofur. Knowing her battle was lost if fought in usual terms, Ellen switched to what she knew would work.

"Dwalin, dear, please give me back my _proper elf-food_ and I'll give you a whole dish of pork cracklings later. Dealt?"

He weighed the offer for approximately… half a second.

"Dealt!"

Then he went to the ungrateful task of retaking said fruit, which was promptly thrown by Bofur to his cousin on the other side of the table; Bifur threw it to Gimli, who threw it to his uncle Óin, and soon the whole bunch of dwarves was into the game of not letting the pear be taken by Dwalin, who already was on the table trying to catch it while not stamping on the food. Ellen shook her head and settled for a cookie, but it was taken from her hand by Dís and thrown into the battle.

"Even you, Brutus?"

Dís laughed out loud and gave her a cheese sandwich with lettuce and tomato, while taking Dwalin's bologna sandwich for herself.

"If you can not beat them, join them!"

Both women laughed, eating their snacks watching the men fight as if it were a show made up only for their entertainment.

* * *

A/N: As suggested by Borys68, I'm adding a little summary for you dear readers not to get lost on the OCs. In each chapter, it will contain a list with the OCs and characters named by Master Tolkien but not overly written about, if at all; I'll list the character's name, affiliation, age in one's own original race and equivalent in human years, noted as D.A. (dwarven age), Ho.A. (hobbit age), E.A. (elf age, if needed; elves will mostly be referred only as children, younglings, adults and mature, if needed at all), N.A. (numenorean human age, for the Dúnedain) and H.A. (human age, the standard to what all other ages will be compared). I'll not use any unchallengeable mathematical formula to convert ages, so the characters will be depicted mostly by my own feeling of what they should be/act at their equivalent in human age. I'll put this note at the end of each chapter so not to tire everybody by the repetition, but allowing people who by any reason skip chapters to have this information, and the list at the beginning of the chapter.

Have a nice reading and, if you liked, please review!


	11. Chapter 11 - TA 2969, Rivendell

A/N: Hello, wonderful readers, here we go, reaching Rivendell with no surprises on the road. I said, _on the road_...

I thank you very much for your follows and favorites, but I'm missing your reviews. Please help me to improve the story, share your ideas!

Namarië!

* * *

Estel: Aragorn; N.A. 38  
Drogo Baggins: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 61; H.A. 39  
Dudo Baggins: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 58; H.A. 37  
Beryl Took: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 40; H.A. 25  
Paladin Took: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 36; H.A. 23  
Ferumbras Took: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 53; H.A. 34  
Ferdinand Took: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 29; H.A. 18  
Primula Brandibuck: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 49; H.A. 31  
Saradoc Brandibuck: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 29; H.A. 18  
Merimac Brandibuck: Bilbo's cousin; HO.A. 27; H.A.17

* * *

So it was that some weeks later a party of ten hobbits and a ranger reached Rivendell without any incident, despite the continuous complaining from cross-dressed Beryl and Primula. Another complaint had come from the younger ones, who expected to see the stone trolls and their hoard, but Bilbo kept his word not to go there out of his free will. He knew whatever was to be useful or of any value had been taken or else been made a 'long term deposit' by the dwarves in their journey. Ferumbras, Paladin, Dudo and Drogo complained there were no more inns. Bilbo didn't hear them, with his head already in Erebor and in who awaited for him there, and Estel made fun of every complaint he heard.

"And how fares Elrond, lad? I'm really looking forward to see him again."

Bilbo asked Estel, after they crossed the Ford of Bruinen. They were heading along a different way Bilbo had taken first time, not being chased by orcs.

"I haven't seen him for a while, actually. Some years ago I moved to live with the Dúnedain, to learn their ways, and the ways of the Wilderness. They are my people, it is where I belong."

"Oh, I thought you were Elrond's step-son."

"No, although he fostered me. My father died when I was very young, and my people sent my mother and me to live in Rivendell, for safeness, and for me to learn elven lore."

"This is sad."

They trod a bit more but a flea was pricking behind Bilbo's ear.

"Pardon me for my ignorance and a possible rudeness, but I thought the Rangers were a rough people, not having any liaison to the elves at all."

The young man laughed, throwing his head back.

"We are as rough as needed to do what we have to do, as the wild is no place for gentle folk. But there is a quite distant liaison to the elves, or, at least, I myself have."

Bilbo looked up at him, curious.

"Elrond's brother, Elros, was one of my forefathers. Several generations apart, Elrond is kind of an uncle to me."

"This must be the most amazing story. I would not mind to hear it."

Estel took the bait and Bilbo spent most of the rest of the travelling time hearing the story of the rise and fall of Númenor.

ooo000ooo

It was late in the afternoon when they reached Rivendell, and unlike twenty-eight years before no elf was surprised with their arrival. Actually, the hobbits were surprised with a hobbit-fit dinner, and Bilbo was glad to see many known faces. Elrond's twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, plus Lindir and Figwit, who had been closer to the Company last time, all they were there. Bilbo noticed Elrond's daughter was missing, and thought to himself that he would ask about her later; he was a bit worried about some of his cousins that were late for the party held in their honour, confusticate them for their lack of timing notion, and wished they would show as soon as possible.

When they finally showed up Bilbo closed his eyes and wished they hadn't shown at all; then he looked up at Elrond with an apologizing look and waved his hands in sign of defeat.

"I have no idea of what is happening here and I have no part in it!"

Elrond suppressed a chuckle.

"I have heard of this kind of... behaviour... before, but never really witnessed it, Master Halfling. Is this... usual... back in your homeland?"

Bilbo buried his face in his hands.

"No. No at all."

Beryl and Primula looked astounding in their dresses after weeks of ridding disguised as males, smelling lavender fresh from bath, their hairs fixed with flowers and ribbons in their locks, and Bilbo still had to find out how women managed to get their lips coloured that way when they wanted to. It was impossible, for a hobbit, not to notice that even their feet-hair had been tended to, wearing delicate locks with small white flowers entwined.

His female cousins were perfect, and Bilbo noticed Drogo's look of awe at them; he didn't know yet what was happening, or about to happen, but something was going on and he didn't miss it. Drogo was a decade older than he was when he met Iris, and had known those hobbit-lasses all their lives, but Bilbo was sure something was developing the last few weeks that didn't develop before, even if he didn't figure out who was Drogo's target, yet. But this was not the issue.

Along with the girls another missing cousin came along, wearing an obviously lent dress that didn't fit him at all, tight at the waist and loose chest-high, despite some attempt of filling; his hair, shorter than the women's, was fixed with a single lilac, its colour disturbingly matching his dress; his feet-hair was not flower-fixed as hers, but the delicate locks where there nonetheless. On behalf of Elrond's deference, Bilbo stood up even if all he wanted was to crawl under the table to hide himself.

"Ferumbras Took, son of Fortinbras, what, in the name of goodness, is this supposed to mean?"

Said Took squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head, and opened his arms, helpless.

"Did you ever lose a bet? To these two devils here?"

Primula and Beryl guffawed, unable to hold their hilarity. Bilbo turned to them instead.

"May you girls please explain to this confounded hobbit what on Middle-Earth is happening here?"

Beryl was the first to recover from laughter attack and explained.

"Just what it seems to be, dear cousin! Ferum lost a bet and is paying for it. He teased us so much about our wearing male clothes since Bree that now he is tasting a tea spoon of his own poison."

Elrond shook his head, amused.

"Learn this, Mister Ferumbras: it is safer to enter a dragon's den unarmed than to stir the vengeance of a woman."

"I've learned, Lord Elrond, the hard way, but I've learned..."

Miserable Ferumbras took his seat between the two girls, Elrond blessed the meal and they spent the next couple of hours eating, drinking and exchanging news. Their safeness on the road was an issue Elrond was worried about, and Bilbo was getting anxious because of this. Albeit all his planning, some things could not be controlled, and he began to wonder if it had really been wise to bring his friends in this journey.

"I have no choice but to go, I must make for Erebor to bring Iris back to the Shire, but now I think it may be better to make my cousins go back from here and to go alone. I cannot risk their lives on behalf of a selfish mind to have them along."

"But you should not go alone at all, Bilbo. Your friends may not be warriors, but they are loyal to you, it is plain to see, and sometimes the good will of a friend is more powerful than the mightiest army."

"No, I cannot lead them into the wild knowing it is not as safe as I thought."

Elrond put a hand on his shoulder, reassuringly.

"You will not be alone."

The hobbit understood what was implicit in those words and smiled, thankful.

ooo000ooo

Next day found the hobbit company enthralled by the beauty of Rivendell, and

almost everyone good mooded after a decent night of sleep in comfortable beds, bellies full of delicious meals and heads light with wine and songs. The only grumbling hobbit was Ferumbras, for obvious reasons, like not being allowed to take of his lilac dress and to wear his male clothes as long as they stayed there.

"This is not fair! Our bet wasn't that serious for you to make me stay clothed like this!"

Primula just giggled.

"You were the one who said cross-dressing could not be as unbearable as me and Beryl stated. Now, take care not to rip my dress if you want to keep decently clad."

Ferumbras's complaints were interrupted by Bilbo coming from a meeting with Elrond, making decisions on their next steps.

"How was it?" Asked Drogo. "Yesterday I overheard we would have company on the road, is that right?"

Bilbo sat with them on the lawn, close to where he and Iris took sparring lessons with Fili, and unfolded a map to show them.

"Yes. Estel will be coming, and some elves too. It is not an army, of course, but as good an escort as you could wish upon."

Paladin looked at the map, interested. He was one who enjoyed Bilbo's traveling stories and had spent many an hour in his library trying to understand those maps and imagining what it would be like to travel as far as Bilbo had. He stated, pointing the places in the map in behalf of the ones who were not as curious about maps as himself.

"Well, we are here and want to get there."

"Yes. Last time we crossed a pass and got trapped into the Goblin Town . Even if we are able to avoid the goblins, the Misty Mountains pass is dangerous, you know. I counselled with Lord Elrond and he mentioned that another possible route is to go north until the Coldfells and cross the mountains close to Rhimdath river; the dwarves of Ered Luin use this path when going to Erebor, they have commerce, you know. This will leave us close to the Wood-elves forest path, the same I took with the dwarves last time, or else we can keep north and round the forest, as the dwarven caravans use to do."

Bilbo scratched his head, thinking, and continued.

"This would make us miss Beorn, but we could visit him on the way back. Anyway, it's only four days on pony from the forest gate to Beorn's, and we have plenty of time. I'd take Elrond's advice and take this route, and then through Mirkwood, knowing Thranduil won't imprison us, I mean. But it's up to you: the north route is best fit for ponies, but it is longer; the forest path is shorter, but narrow and darker, even if Legolas and his crew cleansed it from most of the spiders."

They studied the map for a while and Drogo asked, curious.

"If this map is true, here the mountains are not quite as high as this pass close to Rivendell. Why didn't Thorin Oakenshield chose this path instead of the one you took?"

"Because things change. It would leave us closer to the Wood-elves, who were his enemies by then, and he intended to take the Old Forest Road to cross Mirkwood, not the elven path. Besides, this path we are choosing leads close to the Ettenmoors, where at that time trolls used to dwell. Seemingly the dwarves cleansed things up in the years after Erebor's retake, so they could use this path safely for their caravans. They take the Hoarwell river left margin, though, from the Last Bridge to the Coldfells. We will make for the Coldfells on the plains, not getting back to the Hoarwell neither getting too close to the Misty Mountains . I really do _not_ fancy a tour in Goblin Town again."

Primula looked scared at the mention of goblins.

"Who will come with us?"

"Estel offered to come, as well as Figwit and Culuin; Elrond's sons would come anyway to represent Rivendell at the wedding; and you girls don't have to worry about being around a whole bunch of men, as Aredhel and Nellas are to come too."

"Splendid! This means we can finally travel clad as women?"

Bilbo retorted to them with a wicked smile.

"As womanly as they will."

* * *

Next week: Back in Erebor, let us see how that meeting ended, but be careful with the spies... Anyone wants a cookie?

* * *

A/N: As suggested by Borys68, I'm adding a little summary for you dear readers not to get lost on the OCs. In each chapter, it will contain a list with the OCs and characters named by Master Tolkien but not overly written about, if at all; I'll list the character's name, affiliation, age in one's own original race and equivalent in human years, noted as D.A. (dwarven age), Ho.A. (hobbit age), E.A. (elf age, if needed; elves will mostly be referred only as children, younglings, adults and mature, if needed at all), N.A. (numenorean human age, for the Dúnedain) and H.A. (human age, the standard to what all other ages will be compared). I'll not use any unchallengeable mathematical formula to convert ages, so the characters will be depicted mostly by my own feeling of what they should be/act at their equivalent in human age. I'll put this note at the end of each chapter so not to tire everybody by the repetition, but allowing people who by any reason skip chapters to have this information, and the list at the beginning of the chapter.


	12. Chapter 12 -TA 2969 Dealing with Spies

**Helo, beloved readers, friday has come at last and here are the promised ****_cookies_****! Have a little fun with Durin's brats, and next week you'll know a bit more about Bilbo's escort members.**

**Next week also will be posted an "M Rated" chapter, it will be made as another story (What the Owl didn't See) so the rating of Send me an Own will continue to be "T". The ones who feel free to read a little smut will have this extra pics of your favorite characters, and the ones who don't won't lose nothing from the main story. What can I say? Dwarflings don't sprout out of the stone...**

**Thank you so much for reading!**

* * *

Dís: Daughter of Thráin, Kíli's mother; D.A. 209  
Ellen: Sister of Wolfram, aunt of Lily and Iris, wife of Kíli; E.A. adult; H.A. 35  
Rärc: Son or Röac; Raven age 35; H.A. 40  
Crîck: Daughter of Rärc; Raven age 15; H.A. 22  
Thorin "Knee": Firstborn son of Kíli and Ellen; D.A. 26; H.A. 14  
Frérin: Second son of Kíli; D.A. 21; H.A. 13

* * *

The snack Ellen had carefully chosen so as not to make any mess in the Council chamber had been mostly eaten, but enough of it was scattered on any horizontal surface one could imagine (and some vertical surfaces also) when Dwalin finally got tired of it and jumped on the nearest dwarf, who happened to be Bombur, and tackled him to the ground. The elf asked to the dwarf lady beside her.

"I thought it would be only throw-and-catch today, did you schedule wrestling also?"

"Actually, no, they're improvising."

"They are good at it, hmm?"

"Always!"

Ellen took out a new pencil and a clean paper from her brief bag and made some notes on it before handling it to Dís. The dwarf nodded, added some side notes and gave it back.

"Yes, I think it will do, thank you, Ma. Do we stop them now?"

"No, let them spend their stress a bit more, it has been a hard week on all of them."

"I wish there was popcorn in Middle-Earth."

"Wouldn't they throw it too?"

"No, too light-weighted to be thrown, but I used to eat it while watching entertainment."

"Oh, understood. We could try to develop the species out of ordinary corn, maybe?"

"Hmm, this might work, for all I know this is how it was first developed in my old world; we can start next sowing season."

"Yes, this might work. Help me to finish this, Nathith?" (1)

"Sure, Amad." (2)

They both stood up and the elf took a chalk on a side-table and began to write on a second wall-board, leaving the map one with Kili's markings. Dís added some last minute thoughts, and then a big black bird flew into the room, landing atop the side-board.

"Greetings, ladies!"

"Greetings, Rärc, son or Röac! What brings so noble a raven to our humble halls?"

The raven loved to be cajoled and the women knew how to do it, even if he himself was as insolent as his father used to be. To have that winged ally was more than worth the price.

"What brings me are strong wings, and what keeps me are..." The raven stopped short as he saw something on the dinner-wagon. "Are those cookies?"

Indeed, some miracle had saved a tray of cookies from complete catastrophe and it was there, inviting Rärc to fall to the old sin of his family.

"Help yourself, dear, I think our friends forgot it on purpose thinking of you."

The huge bird flew lightly and landed beside the cookies on the white table cloth, and began to eat them while talking to the women.

"I was just passing by the borders of the northern woods when a cloud of dust caught my eye in the distance. I flew higher to get a better view, and I can tell you a large group of walkers are messing up further north-west, close to the borders of Mirkwood."

The women exchanged worried glances.

"Elves would not march outside the forest."

"And dwarves would not march close to the forest."

"Are there any caravan of men expected?"

"None that I know anything about. And men use to come from south or east."

"We will have to end our friends' little recess and resume the meeting."

Saying this, Dís stood up, took two empty metal trays from the table and banged them together until the Company realized it was time for business. It would not be hard for them to go on playing wrestling for hours long if they were in the mood, mostly because it was not quite usual for all the original Company to assemble; they all had their duties in the realm's frame, and all of them met with some regularity, usually in small groups focused in certain issues, but to have the whole bunch together was not so ordinary. Even in non work occasions it was rare to herd them all together, especially after some of them started family; there was always a sleeping dwarfling, a family meeting, something that kept them from reuniting all of them at the same time; so it was that when this happened it was always relished as a special occasion.

"Children, our friend Rärc brought us some news from the north to what we have to decide our next steps. Rärc, please?"

The raven ruffled his feathers and cleared his throat to speak, but didn't leave the side of the cookie dish.

"There are many walkers on the northern borders of Mirkwood, a large patch of dust is clouding it, and moving against the wind. Too far away to see which kind of walker, though."

Dori whipped a shred of lettuce from his beard and spoke.

"If it is orcs marching to attack us, they should take close to a week to reach the perimeter of the woods."

"Last years they came later in the season, our preparations are none too soon."

Ori said after glancing at his notes, half buried in seed cake crumbles. Kili asked the raven.

"Rärc, are you or any of yours able to get a better look on the walkers?"

The bird tilted his head, and if he had lips he would surely be smiling.

"I'll take it upon myself, and take my daughter Crîck with me. It's time she starts her scouting training."

Kili was looking at the raven when a movement on the border of the dinner-wagon got his eye.

"What in Durin's name..."

His interjection was interrupted by the raven's cry while he attempted to fly, but Rärc's right talon had been grabbed by _something_ under the wagon that was trying to steal more cookies; the raven's desperate attempt to escape unbalanced his captor, making him fall out from his hiding place under the table cloth, dragging to the ground everything that was on the table, from the cookie dish to the flagons and mugs, so that the only place that was quite unharmed by the dwarves' earlier games was messed up too. Rärc freed himself and flew to a safer spot on the side-board he had landed first, while Dwalin and Kili took the table cloth from over the squirming cookie-stealer. Rather, _stealers_.

"Knee!"

"And Frérin!"

The boys hurriedly stood up and bowed in a formal greeting, as if it would lessen the consequences of their misdoings.

"At your service!"

Kili shook his head, holding himself not to burst into laughter, as were his companions. Albeit it was the kind of thing he himself would do with his brother when they were at that age, he could not simply let them dance on his nose.

"So, what do you both think you are doing at a meeting you were not supposed to attend to? Didn't your uncle explain you will attend meetings when you have grown beards enough for it?"

"But Adad!" (3)

"We don't need beards to do what you all were doing!"

Frérin's tone was more pleading than insolent. He knew better than to take his father to his edge.

"Uh, don't you say?"

"Yes, Da, we don't need beards to wrestle!"

"If we did know meetings were this fun, we would have tried to attend them sooner yet!"

Kili exchanged a desperate look with Ellen, who bit her lip to avoid laughing. Their sons had got only the funny part of the meeting, having seen nothing of the real stuff, and reached their own conclusions. She tried to find a way to free the whole kingdom ministry of the embarrassment of being caught red handed being far from what usually is expected from adults.

"Boys, don't Mister Dori and Uncle Balin give you and the other students a break for a snack and some playing in the middle of your classes?"

"Yes, Ma."

"Yes, Ma, especially after _very_ boring classes."

The information volunteered by Frérin made the silver haired dwarf turn to a light shade of purple.

"So, we were having our own break, with a snack and some playing. That is all."

"All?"

"All."

The boys' suspicious faces made clear they were in doubt it the meeting would not be more of what they saw than of what they were told it would be.

"But this doesn't change the fact that you both disobeyed mine and Da's orders. What shall we do now?"

She turned to Kili, who scratched his beard and shook his head.

"They have to be punished, of course. A punishment measured according to the gravity of their disobedience."

Knee sighed, relieved; he was sure what they had done was just a harmless mischief, but then Balin intervened.

'Yes, indeed; and to disobey the orders of a king is considered high treason, felony. It seems you are in trouble, laddies."

Frérin looked at his uncle wide eyed, in disbelief.

"But we just..."

"We didn't..."

"I know a spy when I see one. Or two, by the way. Who are you working for?"

The boys stared at Nori, confused with his grim look and the accusation.

"We don't..."

"How many meetings did you spy before you got caught?" Glóin demanded.

"And what more are you spying? Since when?" Gimli took his father's line of reasoning.

The young brothers looked at each other, starting to panic; the adults were darting accusations at them, not giving any time for them to defend themselves. They were almost unable to figure out who was speaking what.

"To the dungeons with them! I know how to make a spy speak!"

"Put them in solitary, I bet they'll speak in less than a week."

"I've heard of a plant whose decoction makes the person willing to speak!"

"Atkâtâ!" (4)

Dís shout silenced them all. She came forward to her grandsons, looking angry and terrific at the same time, the raven perched on her shoulder like a pirate's parrot. The bird gave his own contribution to the quarrel.

"I can peck one of their eyes out if you wish, Milady."

She caressed the raven's neck and declined.

"I thank you for your offer, noble friend, but this will be dealt _dwarven style_."

Knee and Frérin were trembling, holding each other for reassurance, knowing how their grandmother could be when angered. A universe of terrible possibilities was passing in front of their eyes, everything from torture to banishment, from prison to starvation; and it was coming form their own family, their parents, uncles, even their Granma!

"I have a punishment hard enough for them to understand the wrong they've done, and that will serve as proof of their guilt or innocence at the same time."

"Whatever you decide will be agreed by us, my Lady and Mother."

Kili bowed his head slightly at Dís, who nodded at him and got closer to the two little bandits.

"You wished so much to attend this meeting, didn't you?" The silence in the Council chamber was almost touchable. "Then this is your punishment. Thorin son of Kili, and Frérin son of Kili, for your disobedience to what was ordered by your King, Kili son of Dís, daughter of Thráin, this is your punishment."

The boys lowered their heads, sure they would be thrown down the balcony of the front gate of Erebor, or worse.

"Your desire to attend this meeting will be granted. You both will stay here in this chamber of Council until we are over with the meeting. If any word of what will be said here is to be heard out of these chambers, we will know you both are spies, enemies of the kingdom, and you will be punished for it as due."

Considering they had not even the chance to speak up for themselves, it was a relief for them both; they let out the breath they were holding while praying to Mahal to grant them a painless death and bowed low before their grandmother.

"I thank you for your merciful judgement, o Dís daughter of Thráin, son of Thrór." Said Knee, trembling, aware of the proper words for an occasion like this; not that he ever dreamt he would be one to have to speak those words, but at twenty-six he knew at least some formalities, how to behave; not that he always behaved as he knew he should, but it was only expected from one his age, anyway, not even a beard grown yet. His brother, five years his junior, was a bit clumsier than Thorin, and only mumbled something like "Me too".

The King's mother was seemingly over with them and dismissed her grandsons one to each corner of the main table, sided by the dwarves who were more able to pretend to be serious, so they could not poke each other and get distracted of the meeting they wanted so much to attend.

"Back to the subject, me and Ellen made some suggestions for the next steps regarding the scouting and brigades matter; we pointed out what is due to each one here, no doubt in who is most inclined to what."

The dwarves agreed, made some points to be sure, and Kili asked, looking serious.

"Now, Mister Glóin, if you please, we would like to hear a full report on the mines maintenance schedule."

"A _full_ report?"

"A _full_ report. _In detail_."

Glóin stood up and spoke for easily over forty minutes, then hooked Bombur to explain the nuisances the security measures they were taking to avoid the orc raids would cause in the supply area; Knee and Frérin tried to exchange looks when they lost track of what they could understand or not, but Rärc landed on the table so he would be right between them, preventing eye contact.

Two or three more dwarves reported boring matters with no hurry at all, but when Bifur started his exposition in Old Khuzdul Frérin was no more able to silence a whimper. Knee closed his eyes and wished to disappear. They thought bureaucracy had won over them, but it was not over yet; Ori stood up.

"The library and the archive really need a thoroughly dusting; the change in the weather that is coming soon will damage the parchments and papers if they are not cleansed as they should."

"I'm sure you will soon find volunteers to do the dusting under your guidance, Mister Ori."

Ellen eyed her sons with raised eyebrows that told them who the volunteers would be. Knee knocked his forehead on the table and Frérin slid down the chair until the top of his head was barely to be seen. Kili rose to end the meeting.

"Ladies and gentledwarves, I deem this meeting as having fulfilled its goals, with better outcome than expected, even if with information that worries us all. Better to worry and have a plan than to be oblivious and get caught by surprise. Erebor will show those orcs why they have to fear the people of Durin and their friends."

"I know all of us are tired and deserving a good nights rest, but we ask you all and family to make us company in our home this evening; it's been a long time since we have had the opportunity to spend some merry time together." The elf turned to Dwalin. "And I must pay my promise of a pork cracklings dish, brother!"

The half bald dwarf tilted his head.

"I have not given your fruit back, sister! I'm in debt."

"Considering what that pear must look like now, I prefer not to have it back at all!"

* * *

(1) Nathith – Daughter

(2) Amad – Mother; for short, "Ma"

(3) Adad – Father; for short, "Da"

(4) Atkâtâ - Silence

* * *

**That's it, dear readers, if Knee and Frérin made you give a least the slightest smile, please, please, ****_please_**** review, it would be my best birthday present!**

**Namarië!**


	13. Chapter 13 - Rhudaur

Helo, beautiful readers, here goes another part of Bilbo's journey to Erebor, let us know a bit more about his companios.

Besides, I've posted a new story to fit M rated chapters in it, it is called "What the Owl didn't See" and can be found here: s/9622758/1/What-the-Owl-didn-t-See , the first chapter takes place after the Council Meeting and before dinner at Kili's house, it doesn't interfere with the current story, it was writtenjust for the fun of it.

Next week: Surprise! I'll post an extra chapter tomorrow, and a rather long, as I added some stuff per Dis Thrainsdotter request.

Now, really, next week we continue to follow Bilbo & friends journey. Do you really believe they will get through the Misty Mountains with no trouble at all? Make your bets!

And don't forget to review!

* * *

After a week of laziness, the hobbit company was ready to leave Rivendell and head north, keeping a safe distance from the mountains for as long as Estel and Culuin had idea the goblin dwellings went. Obviously it wasn't a certainty, as that wicked race always dug further and further under the earth, where they could grow the nasty kind of mushroom that was their main source of food, aside from huge mole-rats that provided them meat. Most of the work, though, was done by slaves they kidnapped in raids or that fell captive like the Company of Thorin Oakenshield almost fell.

Estel had that knowledge out of his Ranger training, and Culuin had spend centuries hunting orcs and goblins along with Elladan and Elrohir. It just happened that in the last three hundred years the twins used to scout more often southwards, and Culuin became the leader of a party that used to scout northwards; Figwit was one to stay closer to Rivendell and used to ride along Elrond himself; and Nellas and Aredhel... They where themselves, and none questioned them. They decided they would escort the hobbit company, so they _would_ escort the hobbit company, period.

Aredhel and Nellas were as opposite as day and night. Aredhel had soft silken hair light as silver, and eyes dark as the darkest mines of Moria. Her eyes shone with wild stars, being born in the elder days; a mere squire to Gil-Galad, yet a renown warrior by any account. Her gold-tanned hands wielded a long spear, black ebony shafted, the steel spearhead wrought with mithril and gold runes.

Nellas' eyes where pale as aquamarine surrounded by raven black eyelashes that contrasted with her pale skin, as did her lightly waved hair, which she kept out of her face with a single silver clasp. She was young for elven standards, more prone to laugher than Aredhel, having seen less death and suffering along her life. Even her little experience in battle was absurdly more than even Bilbo could account for, and she carried an amount of daggers that would surprise even Fili, were he alive. The hobbits were told she was a wrestler few could match, too.

As Bilbo predicted to his female cousins, they went to journey as womanly clad as Nellas and Aredhel. Meaning, in days before they set out a pair of elven style female rider clothes that included no skirts and no dresses at all was made for Primula and Beryl. Weren't it for the discomfort shoes caused to hobbits, they'd have a pair of riding boots also, but got along with only close fitting trousers, long sleeved chemises and leather hauberks. Had the deceased Goblin King seen the four of them together, no doubt he'd call the hobbits _elf puppies_, making more justice than when he called Iris that way.

The days they traveled Rhudaur plains of passage were plenty of occasions for the Shire hobbits to know more about the elves, and vice versa. Actually, the hobbits were easy to read, none of them caring to hide anything about their lives and always willing to tell an embarrassing story or two - or a dozen, more likely – about their friends, their family and even about themselves.

The elves, on the other hand, used to be more reserved on their private lives, which made the hobbits even more curious. Estel, being the only human in the party, and having lived many years in Rivendell, just kept himself quiet and laughed at the hobbits' antics to get reactions from the elves.

One evening the party was feeling especially lighthearted, having not seen any sign of menace, and had camped middle afternoon, so Culuin and Figwit were able to hunt some hares that now roasted on the camp fire. Fresh meat was a welcome change, even for the elves, albeit their low need of protein.

"We have told lots of stories from the Shire, now it's your turn to tell us some stories too."

"By the way, can you tell us what does you name mean, Master Figwit? Pardon my curiosity, but I researched a bit in Elrond's library and didn't find the meaning."

The dark haired elf laughed merrily.

"It is a mystery. My father has some foresight, nothing he can control, though, and when I was born he foresaw that in the future I would be know by a faraway people by this name. Then he thought, '_if they will know him as Figwit, why should I bother giving him another name?'_ And so, Figwit I became."

"And you, Milady, what stories of your past may you share?"

Drogo teased their blond escort, trying to get some information way back for a change. Aredhel answered darkly, not at all what the hobbits wished for, completely out of tune with the overall mood.

"The stories I know are far too sad for so a merry lot."

Elladan tried to lighten up the dark cloud the silver haired elf carried above her head.

"Your stories may be sad, but they tell much of courage, and noble deeds. You didn't know, Drogo, but you asked for stories from one who witnessed things that many only know as legend."

"You name _courage_ what I name _need_, Elladan. Ask your father; there was no option."

With this Aredhel stood up and walked away to the border of the nearby stream; Drogo made a gesture of following her to apologize, seeing how distressed she looked, but Nellas waved him back.

"Let her be, Master Halfling; she will be well in a while."

"I'm really sorry, I didn't know... I didn't mean..."

"Aredhel lost too much, too many friends and family in the wars against Morgoth and Sauron."

"Morgoth? But that was... thousands of years ago! She looks... I mean, she is..."

"She is an elf, Drogo. You know we have unending life, but it seems you didn't quite grasp the meaning of it. How old do you think we are?"

Elrohir tried to explain to the stunned hobbit and his friends and Bilbo chuckled.

"If we were a bunch of dwarves instead of hobbits, there would be a quarrel of bets by now!"

ooo000ooo

It was already dark and Aredhel didn't come back; instead, she sat on a boulder by the creek, presumably in watch, when Nellas came to her side, sitting on the ground beside her, leaning her had to her tights. The blond elf caressed the dark haired one behind the delicate pointed ears, absentmindedly.

"I'll take next watch. Go find some food and sleep."

The older elf carded Nellas' hair with longing eyes.

"I'll find some food. But only at your side I can find my sleep, sweet Velvet."

She leaned down and placed a kiss on the soft lips of the younger one, who leaned in, willingly, but stated nonetheless.

"Let us be discrete, we may shock the halflings if they see us."

"And _what_ if they see us? We owe them nothing."

Nellas looked down, smilingly.

"Don't be so harsh, _Ar_. Not all peoples have surpassed prejudice, or even got to understand feelings go beyond the body. I just don't want to shock our halfling friends if we don't have to."

Aredhel shook her head at the dark haired one, for it was the umpteenth time the issue came to light in the last two thousand years.

"I don't want to shock whomever it might be; but I will not restrain myself to show what I feel for you on behalf of prejudices. None of them was there to say I could or could not fight darkness on their behalf, yet so I did; so, they have no right to say I can or I cannot love whomever I love."

Nellas squeezed her eyes and then popped out saucer eyes and a giggle.

"You'll never make new friends if you keep this serious mask of yours. Come on, laugh with me!"

The blond elf looked at the ridiculous face of her partner and breathed deep for control.

"Don't. Make. Me. Laugh."

"The ranger was looking for dunes and didn't understand why he couldn't find them. Where was he?"

"Argh. Dunland."

"Why do Chetwood woman suffer at childbirth?"

"No, not this one, please!"

"Because the babies come Breech! And what does the ranger girl wear instead of a bodice when it rains?"

Aredhel had given up trying to be serious and was almost rolling on the ground laughing. It was impossible to keep her mask when Nellas was in her teasing mood.

"A Weather-Top! Oh, shut up, Velvet, these ones are almost as old as me!"

"What was Michael doing in the middle of the Shire?"

"Delving! Michael Delving, silly one! The halflings will love this one."

"Why are the mountains close to Lindon so depressed?"

"They are not depressed, they're just feeling blue!"

"And what..."

"Stop, Velvet, just stop!"

The blonde grabbed Nellas's wrist and pulled her closer, almost out of breath of laughing.

"Now that I brought you back to the world of the smiling, go eat and then sleep. Looking grumpy doesn't help to make people accept you as you are."

Aredhel rolled her eyes.

"But I _am_ grumpy, what's the matter? Were I a dwarf, none would notice."

Nellas cupped her face and for once looked serious.

"No, you are not. Not grumpy nor dwarf. You are _my_ sunshine. No go play the civilized one amongst the halflings. They are not to blame for any sad story any of us has in the past. And none of them has meant any disapproval of us so far."

"What would be of me if it weren't for you, sweet Velvet?"

"Well, you would probably get bored to death and fade into the West, but as I have no intention of _ever_ be away from you…"

They laughed at Nellas' joke, Aredhel changing a strand of her black hair from place and standing up.

"I'll ask someone to release you from watch as soon as it may."

"It is already arranged. Just go eat and I'll find you later."

"Is this a promise?"

"No!" Nellas took a pair of Balisong knifes out of a pocket and begun to play with them and to smile wickedly. "It is a threat!"


	14. Chapter 14 - Preparations

Hello, lovely readers, here goes a weekend gift specially for you; it is an extra posting, making things advance a week on the schedule, and it is an extra long chapter, too, thanks to Dis Thrainsdotter prompt to see the member of the Company and their families together. They would have this dinner anyway, so I put a bit more scenes to make our beloved dwarvs to feel at home.

For the ones who read "What the Owl didn't See", this chapter begins equal, until the line where Ellen says "Kili Elvenblood, you are impossible!", then it skips forward until the first dwrves arrive for dinner.

Next week: Bilbo's journey reaches the Pass and things might get dangerous...

* * *

Ellen put Kili to soak in the bathtub while Dís went to Bofur's house fetch Lyn and Fili who where there playing with the toymaker's youngsters. Kim was awake when her parents got home and Leri was entertaining her with a set of wooden throwing knives and they felt it was perfect for Kili to wash down the dirt from the road. Now he was relaxing at her hands that washed his hair with care while they talked.

"You know, it always makes me sad when I see the lads at some mischief like today. It makes me miss Fili so much..."

"I know, love. I have not known your brother as long as I would have liked to, but I miss him also, you know." She carded his hair to disentangle some knots. "He told me once you and him adventured into a council meeting you weren't summoned to, wasn't it so? That's why I held myself when Balin begun to threaten them."

The dwarf smiled, although his eyes were still set into the distance.

"Aye, it was! Only that we didn't get into the council chamber under a dinner-wagon, rather we hid ourselves behind a curtain." He let his head fall back into her hands while she massaged the back of his head. "When Uncle found us out – and that was not long after the meeting started – he gave us _that look_, you know? Like if we were some kind of filth."

She laughed.

"I know _that look_! Being and elf, I've got enough of that stares along the first months of our journey. Even when he agreed to our relationship, he kept glaring at me for everything and for nothing at all for a long time."

He acknowledged her statement with a nod, and kept venting out his memories.

"Then he gave us the same penalty Mother gave the lads today, and I can tell you we didn't want to be summoned to a council meeting for some decades after!"

The elf poured clean water from a jar to rinse his hair and began to massage his shoulders with soaped hands.

"When will you tell them they are not under suspicion?"

Kili turned his head to look at her, smilingly.

"I deem after a good patch of the library is dusted would be fair. But it was you who demanded that penalty, it is you who have to name its length."

"Ok. I'll wait until they find something _very_ interesting in the library; if they learn that the knowledge of what was written there is significant, it will be enough."

They laughed, but then Ellen's hand pressed on an old scar and Kili winced.

"Ouch, sorry, this one is always sore."

"It is all right. There are scars that never truly heal. Every time I think of my brother there is something that hurts more."

"Keep the faith. You know you will meet at the Hall of Waiting, someday. Of course I hope this day is still very far away, but it will come, you know."

He finished his bath and stepped out of the tub, drying himself. The confidence in the words and voice of his wife was not out of blind faith. The Valar heard her plea for his life when he died in the Battle of Five Armies, and Mahal reforged him back to life. He bore not even a scar where the hideous orc sword tore his chest, nor did her arm where she cut herself in a sacrifice of blood for his life. But it wasn't enough. She paid for his life with her own immortal elven life, like Lúthien Tinúviel ages before on behalf of Beren. She kept her elven features, like unaging and fast healing, but she would eventually die. After his own death, she would follow him.

"I know. And you will find me there, too. I will be waiting for you."

Ellen smiled and leaned down to kiss him.

"Let us live while there is life."

Kili held her tight and an experienced hand trailed her back fumbling for the laces of her dress. She backed off, trying and failing to look stern.

"What are you doing? The Company will be here soon, I must arrange a lot of things before they're here!"

He tried to persuade her with his best puppy eyes and sheepish smile.

"But you said we should live while there is life, so…"

She shook her head, laughing.

"Kili Elvenblood, you are impossible!"

ooo000ooo

"Hey, Lucky One, glad to see your hat!"

Bofur was greeted by Kili with his usual amused smirk. Having a girl as first-born gave him that nickname, as it was considered very lucky indeed. He and Zirc went to Kili's house along with Dís and the children, as they were ready to go and wanted to lend a hand organizing things, as usual. The families had barely exchanged greetings when a loud wail came from the living room where Leri was entertaining Kim.

"Now, now, what do we have here?"

Kili asked, seeing his little girl in tears.

"_Fee_ took _daggas_, _Kee_ wanna _daggas_!"

The king looked at the child-carer, clueless.

"Kim was playing with Fili's throwing knifes, and he got them back."

"She didn't ask to take my daggers, Da! They are mine, my favourite!"

The youngster pouted and his father suppressed a chuckle.

"I know they are your favourite, Fili; that's why Kim wants to play with them. You are a brave warrior to Kim, so she wants to be like you."

Fili looked at his sister with suspicious eyes.

"True?"

The dark haired girl looked up at him with wide puppy eyes like her father's.

"_T'ue_. _Kee_ wanna be _B'AVE_ like _Fee_."

"But this doesn't mean you can take your brother's toys without asking, Kim. What should say to him now?"

"_So'wy, Fee_."

The girl opened her arms to hug her brother, who couldn't resist her openness and hugged her back.

"All right, _Kee_, just don't' take them without me knowing. Come, I'll teach you how to throw them."

Bofur watched the interaction leaned at the door frame, smiling, as memories of two brothers back at the Blue Mountains flashed through his mind.

"You know, it is not the first pair of Durin's that I see whining on a favourite toy."

"Only because all toys you made were our favourites."

"You are too kind; you're saying this because my toys were the only ones that endured you and your brother more than a week."

"It doesn't change the fact that they were our favourites."

The friends chuckled, looking at the children. Bofur's second one, Zifur, joined them and the boys cheered Kim up everytime her shot got close to the target.

"Funny that it ended up being a _Fee_ and a _Kee_ again."

"Aye. Mahal knows how much I miss _my_ _Fee_."

Bofur perceived where the talk was leading to.

"Sorry, lad, I didn't mean..."

Kili shook his head, dismissing Bofur's apologies.

"It is all right, Lucky; I've been thinking of my brother lately, it's not your fault. Maybe because the remaining of the Company will be joining soon, after so many years. I had only one brother, and no cousin at all, you know."

"Cousin? Your problem is a cousin? Then you have no problem at all, my lad! You see, I can provide you a cousin as good as you might find in the finest markets of Erebor and Dale, just name your price! He can be annoying as any cousin could ever be, with the advantage that he is very, very quiet, if you don't mind to communicate solely in Iglishmêk and Old Khuzdul, actually most of the time in Iglishmêk; I can deliver a cousin to you any day of the week, just name your price!"

The young dwarven king was doubling himself in laughter at Bofur's marketing techniques trying to sell him Bifur.

"Considering he has an orc axe head imbedded in his head I can make a nice price for you, but I swear it doesn't discredit him as a nice cousin and wonderful warrior."

Kili was slapping his tight by now, guffawing; right then both their older daughters rushed in, trying to steal little Kim to themselves as a living doll.

"Come, Kim, we will braid your hair like a princess!"

"_Kee_ wanna _t'ow daggas, Sis_!"

"But we will make you the most astoundingly beautiful maiden in whole Erebor, Kim! Please, let us do your hair!"

"_Daggas_."

"Hair!"

"_Daggas_!

"Nice dress full of lace!"

"_Da-ggas!_"

Fili laughed at them, blinking at Zifur and teasing his older sister.

"To play with brothers is always more fun than to play with sisters, isn't it, _Kee_?"

The youngster nodded, agreeing.

"_Kee_ play _wi'_ _Fee_!"

Lyn looked at Firc, defeated.

"No way, my stubborn sister already has her own mind. Let's go to my room, we can play with my dolls."

The girls left for Lyn's room, and the adults laughed lightly again.

"Like if she didn't abandon any girl friend on behalf of playing along with Knee and Frérin until a couple of years ago."

"Aye, but now our girls are getting _sooo_ girlish, ain't they?"

Kili punched Bofur lightly on his arm, friendly.

"These two are going to give us a lot of trouble when they grow up. I cannot even begin to imagine Lyn being courted by someone."

Bofur twisted his moustache, thinking.

"Actually, I can, but only by someone who can run faster than you can bow-shot."

"No, I can't imagine that; so, why worry?"

ooo000ooo

Most of the Company had arrived, and Dwalin was sharing his pork crisps with Lyn, who was perched in his lap like a good niece, as braiding his beard was more fun than anything in her life, save pestering her older brothers. Said older brothers were helping to set the table along with Dori and Ori, who thanked them profusely for their _offer_ to help dusting the library, promising them it would be an adventure like no other. The boys had their own ideas of what the word adventure meant, and only exchanged desperate looks. The slingshot master was not accounted by them as someone who had the right idea of what an adventure meant, even if he was member of the original Company; their prejudice allowed them to see only the scribe, the brother of strong Dori and smart Nori, not quite understanding the amount of nerve it took to slingshot a troll or a warg.

Dís was welcoming the main kitchen staff with the meal when Bombur arrived with his youngsters and Dahl, walking slowly due to her advanced pregnancy. Bofur was nicknamed Lucky One for having a girl as first born, but having twins made Bombur be envied just the same. Soon the Ur brothers joined Ellen and Dís in the planning of Bilbo and Iris's wedding. It would not be a dwarvish wedding, of course, as neither of them was a dwarf, but it was to them to prepare everything and time was getting closer. Everyone who was to be invited had been so at least a year before, wine and ale had been dimensioned and ordered, and some of the food also. Bofur stated.

"I don't believe they would like to have the ceremony in the Temple, hobbits are too fond of outsides, green grass and stuff."

"Sure, even if they dwell underground."

"So, where do you thing would be a nice place, Ellen? You know more about your niece's likes and dislikes."

"A flower filed would be perfect, but it is autumn, so this is not an option. Maybe a wheat field, in our culture wheat is a symbol for fertility, and good omen on a wedding. But with Dalle's men extra work on the harvest, I don't think we should disturb the crops. Maybe we could look for a nice wide place east of the Mountain to have the morning sun for the ceremony and shade in the afternoon while we feast."

"And we can set tents for if it rains."

"Or move to the feasting hall. None will want to stay three days outside; not the dwarves, anyway."

Dís was always practical when thinking of what her people would more likely do. Bombur came out with an even solution.

"We can set tents for if it rains and keep the feasting outside the first day, and then move to the feasting hall the next two days. It will make our hobbits happy and not disturb indoors routine."

"Aye, this can be done. Depending on how far the filed will be we can have carts to carry people there and back again." Bofur offered, and then it struck him. "Hey, if they are not having a dwarven ceremony, who will hold it? Is Bilbo bringing someone to do the talking?"

"Not that I'm aware. Who could we call?" Answered Ellen, scratching her chin, thinking with them.

Their thinking was interrupted by an outburst of laughing kids chasing one after the other, being little Kim the target of their run. The toddler threw herself on Ellen's lap with a brown furry heap in her arms.

"Look, Ma! _Kee_ has _BUNNY_!"

In no moment at all the adults were surrounded by the excited youngsters who wanted to talk all at once.

"Can we have a bunny, Adad?

"There's a gray one too!"

"They are nice, Da, please!"

The pleas were directed to the elf and Bofur and Bombur too, all of them confused by the bunny wish attack.

"I'd choose the white one with black tipped ears!"

"There's a lot, Ma, I'm sure he would give us one if we ask nicely!"

"And who is this _he_ that would give you bunnies, if I may ask?" Dís took the huge brown rabbit from a protesting Kim. "To whom do these bunnies belong?"

A brown hatted shadow showed himself against the doorframe, a wooden staff in his hand and an amused smile on his lips when he bowed low.

"They are friends to Radagst, milady, at your service!"

ooo000ooo

To the dwarflings' disappointment, Radagast's rabbits were not for giving or selling, but he promised the kids they could play with the bunnies and help to take care of them during his stay in Erebor. Knowing the schedule, he organized himself to spend the most time possible training his new fellow wizard, as both of them had been appointed by Yavanna, the Valie who sang tree and leaf before the world was made, and who was mother of every growing thing like her husband, Aulë, was father to every stone and gem. It was believed that the halflings, being so attached to the earth and everything that grew on in it, were creatures bred from Yavannas' doings, as the dwarves were her husband's creatures. So different and so alike, Aulë and Yavanna, dwarves and hobbits.

"I must excuse myself for this disturbance, but it is not every century that my Lady in the West sends someone she chose to work for her, and you see, for what I know, he _really_ needs some training."

"My dear Radagast, you don't have to excuse yourself for anything at all, never! You were the first person I ever met in Middle-Earth, and if it weren't for you, I don't want to think what would have happened to me and my nieces. Your care in training my brother only contributes. I'll always be in debt to you. It is me who will always be at your service, you know."

The brown-clad wizard dismissed her words with a weave of his hand.

"When your brother is unreachable to you because of your choices in life and comes to stay so little time at your home, to keep him apart from you to train him is something that should be apologized, lass."

"But if in this little time his potential is needed and not used because of lack of training, it would be unforgivable. Also, he might need this training when he goes back to his world, as for what we figured out Yavanna chose him while he was there."

"That is true."

"Now, Radagast, come on, how is this that she reached him there? Do the Valar have free pass from one world to another?"

The weird wizard winked at her, amused.

"Do you really think the Gates you know are the only ones?"

Ellen pondered his words, nodding her understanding, and then their talk was interrupted by a smiling Dori, who got two rabbits in his arms, followed by a dwarfling a bit older than Fili and just one year younger than Bombur's twins.

"Dori, dear, I didn't see you coming, how're doing, my friend?" The elf hugged the strong dwarf, taking care not to smash the rabbits, then turned to Rori. "And you, little one, won't you greet me with a hug and a kiss?"

The shy boy nodded and did as asked, a tentative look on the rabbits and then to the wizard, to whom Dori was bowing low in greeting.

"Mister Radagast, my nephew here told me these conies belong to your person?"

"There creatures belong only to themselves, mister Dori, as should be with every living soul in this blessed world."

The boy gave his uncle a pleading look with his slightly squinted eyes, but Radagast's words just confirmed what the other kids said.

"No way, lad, you can't have everything you wish for."

Radagast read between the lines and added, much to Dori's vexing.

"You can play with them, laddie, if they want to play with you."

"Like the others?"

"Yes, like the others."

"And they won't bite or scratch me?"

"They don't use to bite and scratch, they are nice fellows if you treat them nicely too." Radagast informed the boy, who sent a gaze of daggers to his uncle.

"Mister Radagast, are you sure it is safe to…"

"Of course it is safe to play with the rabbits, mister Dori; at least it is safe for the children, I'm not so sure about it being safe for the rabbits, but as they enjoy it, I'll not interfere in the rabbits decisions, you see."

Ellen held her chuckle at Dori's fussing over his nephew because of a fluffy rabbit. No surprise Rori was so timid and scared of anything, the amount of care Dori lavished on his brothers now he tenfold on his nephew. She really hoped Ori would provide more younglings, and that Nori would find his match and provide some too, else Rori would be bound to have a very complicated life.

ooo000ooo

"Uncle Balin, you know we are not spies, don't you?"

Two very upset Durin's heirs managed to sit by each side of the white haired dwarf who was enjoying himself watching the bunny-dwarfling mess a corner of the room had turned into. All the eight younglings had turned into a ball of fur with most of Radagast's rabbits. Balin put his pipe down on a low table and reached his arms on both younglings's shoulders.

"Of course I know, laddies."

Knee let out a breath he didn't know he was holding; Frérin relaxed his tense muscles, melting on the couch. It was a relief. The youngest lad questioned his uncle then, complaining.

"Then, why did you accuse us too and let us be punished? We are not evil, Uncle!"

The aged dwarf chuckled.

"What have you learnt from what happened, laddies? Have you learnt anything at all?"

"Aye, that council meetings can be booooooooring!"

"Just this, Frérin? Anything else? Thorin, lad?"

Knee always thought it strange to be called by his given name, so used he was to his nickname; Balin was one of the few who called him Thorin, even if seldom.

"That when we are told to don't do something, there is a reason?"

Balin nodded, almost satisfied.

"And what else?"

"Ouch, Uncle, can you please just tell us what all that meant? Just for once, please, tell us something without us having to work everything out in our minds first!"

The old counsellor looked at each one of them in turn, amused.

"Like as if when you are in a real politics council someone will call you aside and tell you what is happening without you having to make your brains work…"

"Uncle!"

"All right, laddies. If you really want to hear it, I'll tell you."

The boys smiled; that was the usual password for Balin's never ending stories, after which any issue that made him begin his telling was already forgotten. They loved the elderly dwarf, an uncle as different from their mother as it could be, but sometimes they could mistake the words of one as having come from the other.

"Imagine, laddies, that you attend a council meeting, where very important issues are discussed, strategic matters, secret subjects; and then you are kidnapped and tortured to reveal what you know of this council meeting. What then?"

"We would endure any torture and never utter a word, Uncle!"

Knee was visible disgusted by the thought that he or his closest brother could open their mouths to any given threat.

"This is what all of us want to believe, laddie. But you are still a child, even if you don't want to believe it. I don't doubt you would endure any torture to keep your people's secrets concealed; but what if someone took your brother Frérin and tortured him in front of you? Or one of your younger siblings?"

Both youngsters paled at the idea, catching what was implicit in Balin's words. Someone touching Lyn filled them with rage, and no good would befall anyone who dared to hurt Fili; to have little Kim manhandled was completely out of question.

"Wait until you come of age to meddle with adult matters. You'll have plenty of time to attend meetings, boring or not, and help Durin's folk to grow and to prosper." Balin squeezed his nephews to him, happy to have those younglings always eager to hear his stories; which reminded him of one of them. "Do you know you are not the first Durin's heirs to attend a council meeting they weren't invited to?"

That sounded interesting.

"What, Uncle? Who else?"

"Yes, Uncle Balin, who?"

He chuckled.

"That your father and your uncle Fili were known for their misdoings you are well aware, I suppose; but they have not been the first, either, even having done almost the same as you."

"Not the first? Who else, then?"

A white and black rabbit decided to take a rest from the dwarflings and settled himself on Balin's lap, hiding its face under Frérin's arm.

"Actually, I should say you are not the first Thorin and Frérin to be caught spying a meeting!"

"What? Granduncles did it too?"

"And you will be stunned when I tell you who helped them and was caught and given the same punishment they got – that was exactly the same punishment you both got today, except for the library dusting, of course."

The boys' eyes twinkled with curiosity and amusement.

"Who was it, Uncle Balin?"

A huge shadow hovered over them, and they heard the answer from another lips.

"It was a halfwit dwarfling who didn't know better than to heed his old brother's advice and always got himself into trouble!"

The boys looked back at Dwalin, laughing at the discovery of his mischieves.

"If you three followed exactly what I planned none of you would have been caught, brother!"

"If I were as short as you, I would not have bumped my head under the table!" The younglings roared in laughter at their uncles' antics. "Now, all of you, supper is ready, time to eat."

ooo000ooo

It was a very large table to bear the full Company and respective wives and children, plus Radagast and his rabbits, who were foraged with plenty of greens and fruit, thanks to a certain elf's eating habits. The very last moment additions were Rärc and his daughter Crîck, a gorgeous raven who cracked the egg the same season Lyn was born, but in raven age that meant she was a bit more mature than Knee. It was a pleasant evening, everybody eating and chatting at ease on the most miscellaneous topics.

"Bombur, my fluffy cake, can ye help me a slice of roast?"

Said fluffy cake made sure Dhal had a thick slice of roast, a couple of potatoes and a handful of string bean in her plate before she could protest.

"This is too much, I can't eat all ye put in my plate!"

"Ye must eat, the baby needs food."

"If I eat this much there will be no room for the baby!"

"Good, it is time for him to come out, anyway."

Óin intervened on her behalf.

"No way, it must be a whole moon yet, to all accounts."

Dhal cupped her own cheeks and roller her eyes at the prospect.

"Good Mahal, one whole moon yet and I'm barely able to walk anymore!"

Ras, Ori's wife, was one who could relate.

"You are at that point when all you want it to leave your belly somewhere and rest a bit, ain't you?"

All women at the table laughed at the mention.

"Ras, you have to forget the discomfort, else you'll never have another one to cuddle."

"Milady Dís, I really don't mind the discomfort, but I can't forget that at the end of my pregnancy it was like walking with a giant pumpkin attached to my belly, and it kicked!"

"Never mention kicking! Lyn was so good at kicking that she would awake _me_ in the middle of the night sometimes. I don't know how Ellen could sleep at all."

Even Kili had to complain on pregnancy matters, and he had a lot of them to recall.

"I have the theory that pregnancy is the best sleeping drug in the world, I could sleep all day long when allowed."

"I allowed you whenever was possible." Kili pouted. "But I really miss you a lot when you are with child."

The elf chuckled, leaning closer to him.

"Don't be jealous, it is always for a good cause…"

"Hey, hey, lovebirds, can you lend me the hot sauce?" Glóin interrupted the couple. "If we don't control these two we'll have to dig another mountain just to lodge Durin's heirs!"

"What brings to my mind…" Óin started, a sausage middle way to his mouth. "There is still a mountain I'd like to see reclaimed. Better still, a set of mountains."

Balin's eyes glinted.

"_That_ set of mountains would be a real prize, indeed."

"If the ale is free, you can count on me!"

"Bofur, you are hopeless!"

"_Maybe the orc that gave me this axe is still there and I can give him the axe back._"

Bifur's mixture of Iglîshmeck and Old Khuzdul was even worse to understand after a mug of ale or two, and he had had several already. Rärc used the relative silence to ask his own question.

"What mountains are of interest to ye dwarves to reclaim?"

"Our holiest home of old in the Misty Mountains, Khazad-Dum."

Several sets of eyes pinned on Balin. The name of their ancient realm, last home of Durin I, was held both in awe and in fear. Kili's eyes glistened dreamy at the thought.

"Mithril…"

Only to be whacked by his mother.

"Pebbles!"

"Ma!"

"Do not ever mention this name in front of me! Haven't I have enough? Did wars and quests not take enough from me? What more do you want me to lose?"

"It's only an idea, Ma!"

"Yes, an _idea_! To an _idea_ of wealth Smaug was attracted to Erebor, the _idea_ of vengeance led to a six year war against the orcs, only to end with the death of Frérin, Thrór and thousands of our people. You yourself, Balin, should not utter the name of the place that took the life of your father. _Ideas_! The _idea_ of retaking Erebor took me my brother and my firstborn, don't tell me about _ideas_!"

Dís had really got distraught this time; her hands trembled, and her eyes were clouded. Kili's gentle touch to her face seemed to calm her, a reassuring smile telling her nothing would be wrong anymore.

"It is all right, Ma. We don't need Khazad-Dum. We have everything we can dream of right here and in the Blue Mountains." For the smallest moment her face showed her real age, wrinkles of worry and sorrow shadowing her beautiful eyes. Kili's words lifted the shadow and made her smile again. "Except for mithril, of course!"

A second whack reminded Kili to beware of his mother, but now he run around the table with her chasing after him. The rabbits found it was some kind of grand prix and joined the race, to what the kids felt like being summoned to join too. Soon Dís was coordinating the children to besiege Kili, who was efficiently cornered where the rabbits had been playing with the dwarflings, and tackled down by the whole bunch. Even Crîck managed to peck at his hair while the children tickled him.

"Help! Someone help your king!"

Ellen approached the heap of tiny warriors who subdued her husband, trying and failing to control her laughter.

"I can help you, but only if you promise never more to consider retaking Khazad-Dum. Dealt?"

"Dealt! Now save me from these devils, I can't breathe!"

The elf clapped her hands, claiming the youngling's attention.

"Children! Dessert!"


	15. Chapter 15 - The Pass

A/N: Hello, dear readres, here goes our weekly update. I thank you very much for your continued support, it means the world to me!

I'm thinking about posting an extra chapter tomorrow, let me know if you'd like to see how Knee and Frérin are dealing with their punishment...

Namarië!

* * *

When the hobbits and their escort reached the Coldfells it became obvious to the halflings why the Erú-forsaken region had that name. Nothing really related to any use of the word "fell", unless that the barren skirts of the Misty Mountains range looked like some old wrinkled leather, but it was clear whoever gave that name needed something to go along with "cold".

It was high summer and they chilled at mid-day, shivered in the afternoon and froze at night, despite any amount of clothes and any size they built the camp fire. The soup cooled in the bowls before it was eaten, and even the sturdy hobbit feet showed blisters and blues from the cold. For once Beryl and Primula were glad for wearing trousers instead of skirts, and even their male cousins were wrapping their legs and feet in blankets while riding. Beryl's stubbornness in keeping her hobbitish bonnet despite wearing elven clothes rewarded her with at least something to keep her head from freezing. Nothing could hold the cold and the constant wind.

"Why is this place so obnoxiously cold? We're going to freeze to death if the weather doesn't warm up a bit!"

"Trolls don't like the cold, Master Bilbo, and that is reason enough."

The hobbit sent Culuin a confused look.

"And so...?"

"Northwards from here are the Ettenmoors, where trolls have bred in the last thousands of years; we have never been able to completely whip them away and cleanse the land, but we managed to keep a safe patch of land on behalf of crossing the mountain range. Your friends the dwarves are quite grateful for this, as they use the Hoardale river path and the same crossing we will make."

"And what does this have to do with the cold?"

The green-eyed elf smirked, positively amused by the opportunity of showing the power his people held.

"The cold, Master Bilbo, is provided by us."

The halfling looked around like seeing the landscape for the first time. The set of mountains they were to cross was not as high as south or north, and had not even snow on its peaks; the Hoardale river could be seen in the distance, they were some miles from it but the shine of the sun on the water was unmistakable; on the north bank, he could discern the green of water weeds and cattail. No cattail nor underbrush in the south bank, where they were.

It was impressive. He knew elves had magic, though Iris and Ellen called it _technology_, but this was too much. To change climate? No. Wait.

"Master Culuin, may I ask you how, for goodness sake, do elves meddle with weather if not even Gandalf does it?"

The elves roared in laughter like Bilbo had never seen before, only for him to feel stupid with his purple cheeks of _they-got-me-thinking-stupid_, which was as true as redundant. Estel was the one to rescue him.

"Don't believe in everything you hear, not even from elven lips!"

Primula held her pony back a bit so she could talk to the human without twisting her neck like an owl.

"Can you please make things clear instead of mocking my cousin? We are respectfully using our natural curiosity to gather information on this death-freezing land and you all just make Bilbo look like an... ah..."

"No adjectives, please, Prim, I can do without!"

Aredhel finally stopped laughing and came to rescue them.

"We don't meddle with the weather, halfling; we just found out how to tunnel and potentiate the cold winds from the mountain range. It's not something that can be done and undone easily, so the chilling of this patch of land is permanent as long as our devices work. No magic at all."

Bilbo nodded in understanding, and some of the others grunted in agreement, but most of the elves were flustered; Elrohir was one to complain.

"Aredhel, you kill-joy!

"Now, now, I'm just trying to be _not_ the grumpy one to our hobbit friends, for once, and you condemn me for revealing your prank? I should give up, then."

"No, please, Lady Aredhel, we felt really pleased to have you speak some ungrumpy words to us at last!"

Ferdinand had not quite the best choice of words, but that made the silver haired elf laugh again. Saradoc was as half-witted as his cousin and gave his contribution.

"Yes, Lady Aredhel, we really appreciate when you are not mad at someone!"

"Or when the someone you are mad at is taller than four feet!"

Merimac could be as half-wit as his brother, if not worse. Drogo, instead, was very interested in how stuff worked, and guessed if the hobbits had such knowledge then, the worst the Shire suffered through the Fell Winter could have been spared.

"Lady Aredhel, please enlighten me; in the likes you keep this land cold, could you make a land keep warm? Or, at least, warm a patch of land when needed?"

They crossed a creek and trotted a bit more until a flatter land was reached, before the silver haired elf was comfortable to answer him without shouting.

"It should be asked to my Lord Elrond; he was the one who designed these devices and has the knowledge that encompasses them, though I helped to build them, long ago."

"It is not easy, master Drogo, to deal with air conditioning, nor always safe. This pass was the only ever wrought, in times when our people and Thranduil's had more dealings and we used to travel hereabout more frequently." Elladan steadied himself on the saddle, stretching his limbs. "Nowadays the dwarves use it when travelling from Erebor to Ered Luin, or rather the opposite, unaware this cold and the lack of trolls even if close to the Ettenmoors is due to elven efforts. I really fear what may become of this path if ever the weather devices break."

He stopped and dismounted, as did the others, much to the hobbits' dismay.

"Must we go on foot?"

"The path is too steep for the horses from now on, we will make it faster on foot.

ooo000ooo

Later that day they reached what should be the highest point of the mountain pass. River Hoardale had long turned into a creek and by now it was only a bog to their left, fed by drippings from the rock.

"Cheer up, halfling friends, we will spend the night on the east side of the mountain range, the wind will be left on this side."

As expected, the hobbits welcomed the news Figwit provided them with hurrays and a sudden boost of good humour. Soon they were singing like they hadn't since the bitter cold began.

"This sounds great! Will we be able to hunt some fresh meat for a change?"

"Drogo, if you don't quit thinking of food all the time, you will end up fat as a dairy cow!"

"Hey, Primula, I'm a respectable Baggins, you don't suppose a true Baggins should be scraggy, do you?"

"I don't, but your poor pony is almost begging for retirement."

"And you are more worried about the pony's well being than about mine?"

"Getting fat as a dairy cow isn't well being, is it?"

"Stop, you both, you are bickering like and old married couple!"

"I dare you repeat this statement, Saradoc Brandybuck!"

"Else what, dear Aunty?"

"Else…" She twisted a lock of her rich dark hair around a finger and turned back to her cousin. "Hey, Beryl, what do you think about getting him into the same bet Ferum lost? We can give him the same punishment!"

Drogo intervened.

"Being your nephew must be punishment enough!"

"Don't you meddle with how I deal with an insolent kinsman, else I'll make _you_ lose a bet with me and Beryl!"

Said Beryl laughed from behind in the row, steadying her footsteps with her walking staff.

"No way, none of our dresses would fit your Baggins sweetie!"

"He is _not_ my sweetie! Ouch, Beryl, I'll account this as high treason!"

"Hey, Ferumbras, why don't you tell me what that bet was, just in case?" Drogo asked, in hope. "It can save us from the same treatment they are lavishing you."

"_Never_!"

The angry tone of the victim of the girls' prank was priceless.

Culuin ignored the hobbits and stopped, holding his horse's bridle, waiting for all the company to pass the cleft they were heading through. If was large enough for a cart, but not much more. His piercing green eyes scouted the wide patch of cold land behind them, in search of any movement, and then he turned again after the last hobbit was on the east side of the mountain range. They had done it, the Coldfells where behind them.

"Hey, _Silverware_, hurry down, we don't want to spend the night so close to the pass!"

"I'd show you where to find _Silverware_ if we weren't in the presence of ladies!"

The silver-haired elf protested back to teasing Elladan, and also silver-haired Aredhel helped him, to the others' amusement.

"Culuin, I immobilize him and you hit? Or the opposite?"

"We can take turns, darling!"

"We can beat him in twos until it turns to an odd number."

Looking behind to see the two bantering, Bilbo noticed the top of the mountains were white on the east side, even if there was no snow to be seen on the west side. He deemed it as a side effect of Elrond's weather device and forgot it for the time being.

Not long after, they reached the wellspring of Rhimdat river, which they would follow for the next days until they reached the Langflood, that would be called Anduin after it was met by the Gladden River. A couple of miles later Elladan called for a halt and they prepared to camp for the night while Culuin, Figwit and Estel scouted the surroundings for their safeness and fresh meat; pheasant would have to do that evening, for it was what their arrows found, plus some dried fruit from their provisions.

Culuin was uneasy since they set camp, and was almost forgetting to eat while he was eating. Elrohir noticed it and called him to watch together, giving him the chance to ask what was the matter without worrying the others.

"The wind is too still for my liking. Of course it should not be like in the west ridge, but this stillness is… unnerving. Estel feels it too, he just is not so aware, but he is used to this ranges as I am. The horses are uneasy. There is something wrong ongoing, Elrohir, I just can't figure out what."

Elrohir looked at the surroundings, thoughtful, and then up at the waning moon.

"Can it be just the solstice coming? We are close to Midsummer, some people are more sensitive to it, though I wouldn't think Estel to be one."

"And I've never been one of them, too. It is something else, something I can feel in the earth…"

"Come on, you're almost talking like my grandma."

Elrohir teased Culuin, trying to ease the tension.

"I have been leading scouting parties along this land for a long time, and never felt this stillness in the air. It is… unsettling."

"I trust your knowledge of the land, my friend. I'll talk to my brother, we break camp at first light, three of us in the watch each turn, just two turns and we're done."

"We should warn the halflings."

"That lot will give us trouble if aware of a problem that may not even happen.'

"Then at least make things be packed before they go sleep. It can be excused as haste to part in the morning."

"This will do. I'll talk to them and share first watch with you; I'll see who else will be with us."

Elrond's son had not taken a dozen steps back to the camp when he heard a rumble followed by a swift wind from the mountain top. He looked back and up and his eyes grew wide as he shout in terror.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel!"


	16. Chapter 16 - In the Library

Helo, beautiful readers, here goes an extra chapter for you as a gift for your kind reviews. All the followings and favoritings really mean a lot to me.

Next week: let's see what made Elrohir so scared for him to cry out the name of the Valie that kindled the stars...

* * *

The task of dusting the library was long, boring and utterly _dusty_. Each shelf had to be emptied and cleansed, and then each tome carefully dusted with a very soft brush before being put back in the shelf; and it could not be done in a hurry, else the dust would fly up into the air and mess everything again. Ori had set them to dust a corner of the place that counted at least three hundred years, and beside the care of putting every tome back into the proper place they had to take extra care because some books were dry and crackling of old age. Frérin was especially annoyed that day, being stuck in the dusty library for every afternoon the last few days.

"This is not fair! This is not fair and this is not right!"

He mumbled while carrying a pile of books to the place they dusted them. Knee was brushing a leather covered tome when he simply _had to_ sneeze, sending pounds of dust up in the air and all over him and his brother.

"I agree."

Frérin sat at his side and took his brush to start another tome.

"I don't want to hear about council meetings for the next thousand years! No, the next _two_ thousand years!"

"We will have to attend meetings only when we have beards, Fré."

"But this will happen in less than two thousand years, and this is not fair!"

"I agree."

"Hey!" The younger one lifted his head as if it got lighter on behalf of his idea. "And if we don't grow beards at all? We would be free of the meetings!"

Knee whacked his brother's head with more force than needed.

"Shame on you, brother! What a stupid idea, we not growing beards!"

"But brother, and if this happens? Mother has no beard, what if we are like her and don't grow a beard?"

What begun with an idea of getting rid of council meetings turned into a panic attack.

"No, it is impossible, we cannot _don't grow_ beards! We are Durin's line, we _must_ have beards, we are Longbeards, no matter what Mother is!"

"But Knee, we have pointed ears like hers!"

"Not quite!"

"But almost!"

"No. It cannot be. We will have beards, Fré, we _will_!"

The dwarfling was fiercely hopping it would be so, and had to point it out so angrily to convince himself it was true. He had had enough bullying at school because of his pointed ears, not having a beard was out of question. The simple idea distressed him.

"Here, lend me a hand, this box is ready to go back to the shelf and I am ready to take a bath to get this dust off me."

They both got the box with several dusted books inside and carried it to its stand; the Knee climbed up a ladder and pulled the rope Frérin attached to the handles of the box to lift it to the level of the shelf the books belonged. It was the last shelf they would finish that day, as it was almost time Ori to lock the library and for them to go home, thanks Mahal.

Having his mind in the beard issue didn't help Knee to focus on what he was doing, else he would notice the ladder wasn't hooked in the rim of the stand as it should; being annoyed by the boring and dusty task didn't help either; and the thought that in few weeks his mother's family would be there visiting was unsettling. What if she chose to go back to her other world with them and leave them alone? She told so many tales from when she lived there, surely she missed it. But no, she was obviously bonded to his father, he had heard more than one person mention them as 'perpetual newly-weds'.

But that didn't keep her from visiting Imladris when he and Frérin were younger, though. He remembered a bit of then, but most of all he remembered that he missed his father. When he came to escort them back home he felt himself the most beloved dwarf in Middle-Earth. Of course Mother was good, and Uncles Balin and Dwalin where there too, but Father was the best. He bore a short beard for a long time when he paid his promise to Mahal to go in the Journey to retake Erebor, he would not care if his son grew no beard. Not that it would happen, of course.

"Knee, let the box down, so I can put the other clean books into it!"

His brother looked small on the floor, and Knee lowered the box carefully, not wanting it to simply get dropped on Frérin's head. He was already trouble enough without having his head knocked. It was then that the ladder unhooked itself at a bad angled move and started to slip sideways; Knee saw the disaster coming.

"Fré, run!"

The youngster perceived what was happening in no moment at all and what his brother thought.

"No way!"

Frérin shouted back, throwing himself against the falling ladder, trying to slow down its inevitable fall. Knee took the chance the slowed ladder gave him and gripped a shelf border, letting the ladder fall with a bang, whilst Frérin stepped away. Now it was only a matter of climbing the stand down, and the distance between shelves would not make it difficult. He started the slow descend, hoping his hands and feet would not slip on the dusty shelves.

Seemingly, that day the Valar intended to amuse themselves watching Knee's misadventures, and one foot stepped on a book that was lying down on a shelf border instead of stepping on the shelf itself; fortunately for him, Knee was only ten feet from the floor already and, unfortunately for his brother, Frérin was right in his landing area.

"Ouch!"

Frérin was barely able to groan when Knee fell sprawled over him, and only whimpered when the Mordor-damned book fell on his head.

"This is not fair!"

"And this is not right!"

Knee made his best to get off his brother and laid himself on the floor, feeling miserable. Frérin sat up, dropping the book off his chest to his lap. Something startled him when he looked at the leather bounded tome. The letters were not right.

"Knee…"

"What?"

"This is not Anghertas."

The older brother glanced at the book cover and perceived its rounded letters.

"Must be Tengwar. Elvish stuff."

The younger one shook his head.

"No, it is not. These are letters from Mother's world, Knee!"

The older one sat up, startled too.

"Let me see!"

He took the book warily, as if touching something with letters from another world would make him vulnerable to that world. The dust was all over the book front cover, as it was laid down instead of upright, and Knee stood up and run to the place they had their brushes to dust it properly. He looked down and regretted not paying much attention to his mother's lessons on that cursive writing style.

"Bert… Bertias… Bertiasij. The name of this book is Bertiasij."

"And what is inside it? I didn't know there were books from Mother's world in this library."

Knee opened the book randomly, and found a drawing of a strange water beast, several long tentacles sprawling along the page, and a description of it, which the lad made his best to read to his brother, stumbling on some letters. At least the words inside were written in another kind of letter, that had every letter separated, unlike the letters on the cover, and he was more used to read that ones.

"Kraken. Mollusc. Environment: water. Salt and fresh water species. Size: According to water area available, reaching from two inches to half a mile. Life expectancy: Unknown. Eating habits: fish, birds, molluscs, small and large mammals in general, any animal available. Reproductive habits: Unknown. Social organization: Unknown; never seen in groups."

The brothers exchanged confused glances, and Knee flipped to another random page.

"Crebain. Bird. Environment: Reported on western side of the Hithaeglir – that are the Misty Mountains, Fré – through Enedwaith, Dunland and Eregion. Size: Above average for a raven, to which they resemble in appearance yet not in honor. Life expectancy: Up to forty years. Eating habits: the same of a regular crow, favoring meat and carrion. Reproductive habits: they begin to court at a very young age but don't bond for yet five to seven years; nest together for life. Display aerial acrobatics and food providing at courting. Both parents hatch the eggs, three to six per year, and take turns feeding the chicks. Social organization…"

"Knee, this book is an animal handbook! Can we take it home to read it all?"

The older brother looked from the book to his excited brother and back.

"Why not? Mister Ori has lent us books before, we just have to write it down in his control notebook, I deem."

"Aye!"

"But you will have to exert yourself to try to read Mother's letters, right? I won't be reading things for you for the rest of our lives."

"No problem, Knee. This Bertiasij seems interesting enough to make me want to read it."

"Let us write the borrowing down in Ori's control."

They run to the desk closer to the door of the library and Knee took a quill to write in his neat handwriting.

'Thorin and Frérin – one book."


	17. Chapter 17 - Taltalossë

A/N: Hello, dear readers, here goes the weekly chapter, hope you enjoy it.

I thank you very much for your kind reviews, specially to Molly1925 and Dís Thrainsdotter, it really keeps me encouraged!

Next week:Guess Who's Coming to Dinner...

* * *

The avalanche took them by surprise, but fortunately they were all awake, which would not be true just a couple of hours later. The horses and ponies had been restless and broke free at the first sound of snow and stones coming down, their elven ropes willing to unknot themselves at the first sign of danger to the animals. There was no time to waste, and the travelers grabbed whatever was at hand or nothing at all and run for their lives. The elves and Estel prompted the hobbits to the right of the slide, as that way the ground would get even sooner than on the other side, allowing them to run faster and steadily.

It was hard not to stumble in the dark, running wild at the thunderous noise behind them in almost complete darkness; Beryl almost fell when her foot got tangled in a fallen branch, but Figwit grabbed her by the waist and run with her under his arm in a swift movement. The worst of the avalanche was more northwards, closer to the pass, but their camp was a complete havoc, and they run with what lungs they had. By now Merimac had been hauled over Elladan's shoulder and Nellas was dragging Saradoc and Ferdinand by their wrists.

The hobbits heard the elves shout amongst themselves in their own language, and made their best to run out of the wreckage path with what strength they had. Bilbo ran as if a dragon were at his heels, and he knew exactly what it was like; Dudo was being prompted forward by Estel, and Aredhel prevented Paladin from rolling down the hill with the shaft of her spear.

The snow took its time to settle down along the earth and rocks, and the travelers had their own hearts pumping in their ears when the sound of the rumbling faded; by then, they were in the skirts of a pine grove, several yards lower and southwards from their unchancy camp, in the dark of an almost waned moon. They had not even settled their breaths when Drogo's distressed voice was heard.

"Where is Primula? Primula!"

Ferumbras was also not to be seen, and they begun to search for the missing, walking warily back their own tracks, aware of a possible afterslide. It took them not long to see half a walking staff looking oddly out of the snow, and Drogo ran to it begun to dig with his bare hands, shouting her name.

"Primula! Primula!"

Soon his brother Dudo and her nephews Saradoc and Merimac joined Drogo, and Elrohir directed the others to grant them room and search for the other missing one. It was a delicate job, as they could trample Ferumbras without even knowing it under the layers of snow and stone drift.

Several yards away a hairy toe showing above the snowy ground was enough for Aredhel to start digging, a quick gesture of her arm measuring where his head should be and starting from that location. The snow was severely mixed with rocks as little as closed fists and some as big as dog, and they prayed none on the later had got their little companion.

Seemingly, none of the biggest stones had, but Ferumbras' skin was gray and cold, his lips blue, and, worse that that, he wasn't breathing. As soon as his face was freed from the snow Elladan felt for his pulse in the hobbit's neck, and shook his head approvingly, but the halfling would need help to breath. In their practical way and abetment, Aredhel quickly dragged the little one out of the snow and into her lap, both for a better positioning to breath as for warmth, and Nellas closed his nose with a hand whilst covering his mouth with hers, and breathed in hard. Aredhel had leaned Ferumbras' head back, so his air passages would be free, and Nellas repeatedly forced her own air into the hobbit's lungs.

After a short while Ferumbras coughed and sputtered, and then he was breathing on his own, groggy. Aredhel carried him to the pine grove, to be away from the snow, so the little fellow could be warmed more easily, and she and Nellas opened their cloaks and embraced with him sandwiched in between, while the others worked to build a fire. Primula was in better condition, being very cold but otherwise undamaged. Seeing what the elves had done to Ferumbras, Drogo wrapped the girl inside his coat and would not let her go for any sake.

"Are you fine? Tell me you will be fine!"

He run his fingers through her hair, pressing his cheek to her face, trying to lend her every bit of heat he could. Following Estel's instructions, Beryl rubbed her hands along Primula's legs and massaged her cousins' feet to make the blood run, else she could lose a toe or even a foot. Both the ranger and the male elves knew better than to be improper and touch the lass in so a close way, though they would do it if there was no other female amongst them.

"Thanks Yavanna you're not scraggy!"

Primula muttered under her closed eyelashes, shaking violently, worming her hands under Drogo's armpits to get her fingers warmer.

"Hush, hush, I've got you, you will be warm, it will be all right, just tell me you are fine, would you?"

Figwit and Culuin had got a fire going, and came to move the chilled travellers close to it. The elven women walked as one with their protected one in their midst, the hobbit prattling incoherently. Primula's nephews helped Drogo to carry her close to the fire, but the mop-haired halfling refused to let her go from his arms.

"No, she is warm here, don't move her away, she has _not_ to get chilled again!"

Beryl shot him a knowing glance.

"I don't believe you would let her get chilled even if you had to burn a forest to accomplish warming her!"

Drogo was upset.

"Wouldn't you? Is it so that you care for your cousin, the one you call your best friend?"

"Hush, Drogo, don't make it an issue, I'm just stating that I'm not blind to how youlook at her."

"And how do I look at her, pray?"

He tightened his grip on the sleepy hobbit-lass, bringing her closer to his chest, as if it were possible, while rubbing gentle circles on her back through his own coat. Despite all the scare of the situation, Beryl managed to keep her voice even and calm as she answered, matter-of-factly.

"Like she belongs to you."

Drogo's look was telling that he didn't yet figure out that it was true and needed someone to speak it out in Westron for him to understand. Of course they were friends for decades already, but only after they begun to travel together he noticed how well humoured, light hearted, kind, intelligent, funny, interesting, quick witted and, the Valar help him, _beautiful_, Primula was. Her bright blue eyes that twinkled when she smiled, that pretty smile that left her with dimples on her cheeks, her cascading curls and delicate hair fringe on her forehead, why did it take him a freak journey to the confines of the world and almost losing her to the avalanche for him to understand what was happening inside his own heart? He moved a strand of hair away from her face, trying to conceal the turmoil in his mind. Drogo whispered to Beryl, hoping the tiny lass in his arms was as asleep as she seemed to be.

"I know she doesn't. But I wish she did."

Beryl let an accomplice smile brighten her face as she confided him with a wink.

"Quit biting your fingernails, she loathes it."

"Why are you telling me this?"

She smirked.

"It is time for you both to settle down. Why can't I help a pair of oblivious friends to do so?"

His line of tough, completely confused by now, was interrupted by shouts in elvish.

"Oh, no! Not again!"

ooo000ooo

After the snow buried hobbits had been rescued, the ones who were not taking care of them begun to carefully scan the snow covered landscape from its borders. No way they would walk on the unreliable snow before they had some more light, even being a bunch of elves and a ranger from the north, albeit Bilbo knew Estel was more that that, or, that a ranger of the north was not an ordinary human. The horses were gone for good, seemingly, and only in the morning they would be able to try to track any sign of them. Some of the elves begun to climb up the slope to take a better look at the top of the mountain range, as Elladan was puzzled as to why the avalanche happened at all, and talked quietly on elvish with the one more acquainted to the region.

"Culuin, when was the last maintenance?"

"Three months ago, as scheduled. There was no sign of deterioration, and the mobile parts were greased, as usual."

"I hope the weather device keeps working after this; the trepidation of the avalanche could damage it, you know."

"Yes. We must send message to your father, as soon as possible, after we verify if anything is broken, tomorrow."

"What in Elbereth's name is that?"

The dark haired elf noticed a darker spot on the hill slope, just some yards from the top, facing north-eastwards, and whispered to his companion.

"It is too dark to be just the broken stone, I deem; it looks more like the entrance of a tunnel."

Culuin agreed with a nod, and whispered back.

"We must move the company away from here, _now_; any delay can be dangerous."

They begun to move back down the slope, signaling the others in sight to do the same, in silence. Culuin looked back once more, the feeling of uneasiness not over, and he shouted in alarm to the other elves for what he saw.

"There's light inside! Torches! Move, we must go, _now_!"

"Move! Move! Take the halflings, move!"

"Elladan, what is it?" Estel asked his stepbrother in the distance, unable to see what the others saw.

"Goblins!"

* * *

Talta- :slide down + lossë : snow = Taltalossë: snow slide down, avalanche


	18. Chapter 18 Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Helo, dear readers, the Gate in Mirror Lake is finaly open and we have visitors!

I thank you very much for your kind reviews, favorites and follows, you mean mountains of joy to me!

Next week: Ferumbras is really a very, _very_ unlucky fellow...

* * *

By the time the Mekhem Lamâb was expected to open there was always some member of the Company or someone closely related near Mirror Lake. So it was that when the silent waters were disturbed by some _no fishes at all_, as Bombur mentioned them, it was himself and his brother who were on watch, and who greeted Wolfram son of Nyda like twenty-eight years before. The time mismatch between Earth and Middle-Earth was such that their guests had gone through only four years since they jumped into the silver shining waters to head back to their human world, leaving behind a bunch of saddened dwarves, a hobbit full of hope in the future, a kinswoman (or a _kinself_?) who gave up her own world on behalf of love, and the loving memory of the deceased nephew and uncle who were respectively _little brother_ to a hobbit girl and fiancé to a young dwarf lady.

Bofur opened his arms in greeting while the otherwordly family splashed out of the lake.

"Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends! We're so glad you could attend! Come inside! Come inside!" (1)

Iris shook her head to the known melody that didn't fit in that world.

"Bofur! Where in goodness name did you hear Emerson, Lake and Palmer?"

They hugged, the dwarf completely indifferent to the girl's wet clothes, both of them laughing uncontrollably, the water of her hair mingling with the tears of both of them.

"Your aunty doesn't chirp like you but she remembers one or two tunes from your world, lass!"

Bombur embraced both Lily and Wolfram at once like they were the best chunk of meat in the butchery.

"Lady Lily! You came back! You're really back!" The fat dwarf looked up to the slender wizard. "Thank you for bringing them back, Master Wolfram! We missed them dearly, you don't know how precious your daughters are to us!"

Lily wasn't able to say a word, chocking with her own tears and Bombur's arms around her neck. Wolfram whipped the water from his face with one hand while embracing the red haired dwarf with the other.

"I'm glad to be back, Bombur, even if my last stay was so short. It will not be like that this time, even if it may not be quite long."

Bofur was the first to get his feet back on the ground.

"Dear guests, Ellen promised to skin us alive if we leave you three shiver in the cold of your wet clothes; though your clothes are actually a little disconcerting, but we got used to you lot being disconcerting to us dwarves along the journey."

The girls looked down to see what had become of their neoprene outfit after passing the fast-changing gate of Erebor, only to realize it would be unfit for Erebor or any place in Middle-Earth regardless of the material it was made. It changed to, supposedly, a kind of leather, but it kept its hydrodynamic design, clinging to their bodies like a second skin. Wolfram was more practical.

"Bofur, my friend, is there anywhere we can change? I asked so much from my sister…"

"Ha! Of course there is! We just could not make thing easy for this two ladies, do you know many times they screwed up the Company?"

Said ladies looked at each other, laughing, happy, while following the brothers who had taken charge of their backpacks. The three newcomers were a little groggy from the transition, but this time at least they knew what to expect, unlike first time Wolfram came, being pushed into a lake in a volcanic Indonesian island by his NerdNet guide.

They were headed to an old storage room that was not in use by then, as in that level of Erebor there were no dwellings, and provided with towels and clothes, so they would not have to unpack before reaching Kíli's house. It was strange for the girls to think about the royal dwelling as Kíli's, as when they were there last time it was Thorin's, and simply the headquarters. But Thorin was dead, and life goes on, Lily thought, sad, whilst tying Iris' laces at the back of her bodice. The hobbit's dress was of a creamy hue, embroidered at the hems in earthy red and golden seams, and the bodice was it opposite, dark red with creamy embroideries.

"Perfect, _shorty_! Now help me with mine."

"Hey, it is not because I've shrunk to hobbit size that you're allowed to bully me, _beardy_!"

They laughed and chatted lightly while Iris helped her sister with her dress and boots. The design of the dresses was similar, only in Lily's prevailing light gray instead of cream and dark blue with silver seams instead of red and gold. Her suede boots were of a gray shade, almost silvery, and fit up to just under her knees. Wolfram chuckled.

"I can see Ellen playing to dress up dolls with you two once again!"

"Yes, and _we_ are the dolls, as usual!"

The man looked down at his loose fitting dark green tunic belted over simple trousers and dark brown leather boots. The long sleeved tunic bore a leafy design in dark brown, intertwined with coppery seams.

"Yep, it seems I've been given the status of living doll, too!"

They threw their wet clothes in a sac and went out of the room to be guided upstairs by the Ur brothers. They had already flickered news through the mirror devices that by now covered most of the realm, which was a fast means of communication but had an inconvenient lack of privacy. Even if they had their own codes and important messages were encrypted, flashes of light coming form the level of Mirror Lake could only mean the long expected visitors had arrived.

Each level they reached found more and more people waiting to see them, curious, joyfully cheering them as they passed. Two levels above Mirror Lake some members of the guard took the backpacks from Bofur and Bombur and hurried before them to deliver the luggage in the royal dwellings. Next level gathered several miners, and the next one was crowded with smiths. When they reached the levels that bore most of the dwellings the crowd was plenty of dwarrowdams and dwarflings, and the sisters could only realize that despite having spent several months in the company of dwarves, they had never seen a dwarf child or woman before, besides Lily herself. The haunted empty place they helped to reclaim was now a living realm, with working people, growing families, _life_.

Wolfram was abashed with all that attention, which he deemed undue, and was almost knocked off his boots when a dwarfling run to his eldest daughter and boldly shove the delicate figure of a lily in her hands, shying away in no moment at all, leaving her with glistening eyes set on the white chalcedony carving.

"Bofur, what is all this? What is happening here?"

The dwarf laughed under his hat.

"You don't understand, do you? To these people, your daughters are not ordinary people, they are _heroines_. They are the ones they tell tales and sing songs about, when they speak about the ones who granted the end of their exile. To you she is little Iris, but to them she is Iris the Halfling, the Goblin King's Bane; to you she is just sweet Lily, but to them she is Lily the Bride, the Dragon Blinder, who cured Thorin Oakenshield's gold-sickness. You'd better learn these nicknames, you will have to use them soon. Even you..."

"I've done nothing! My sister knocked me out before the Battle, there's nothing to say about me!"

Bombur chuckled, shaking his head at the man's panicked stare.

"Didn't you? You are Wolfram the Green, the mysterious wizard who knows the Gates to the world of heroes!"

"What? All right, I understand they may have a fancy on the girls being their heroines, but from that to imagining we come from a _world_ of heroes? This is delirious!"

Bofur was completely amused by Wolfram's reactions.

"Maybe. But this is all they know about your world, Wolfram, they don't know anyone from there that is _not_ a hero. They know your family, and you know what they have done, and they have had news of the three ones that came to help us against the spiders in Mirkwood, and you know whom I mean, from what Ellen told us I'd have no other rating to them than _heroes_. So, by pure statistics, to this people, hundred percent of the people who came from your world are heroes, so, you are the one who knows the Gates to the world of the heroes. It is pure logic!"

"You must be spending too much time with my sister, if your manner of speaking is to reveal anything at all."

The dwarf laughed.

"We work a lot together, I must agree!"

The place was becoming familiar to the sisters, even if cleared out of the rubbish it had on when they first came, the lay of the paths and the colour of the stones calling them to walk faster. Opposite to where they had come they could see the light of the sun filtered through the wide windows above the main Gate, and that the ugly hole Smaug had broken into the stone wall to make his way in and out had been mended in the most meaningful way. Instead of simply closing the gap in stone to mend the damage and make Smaug infamy to be forgotten, it was made into a huge stained glass art work, showing a fallen dragon pierced by arrow, axe and two swords of different sizes. Around the felled beast four figures stood, one hand stretched out in a warning gesture, and by the proportional size and bearing of each figure it could be told they represented a dwarf, a man, an elf and a halfling. One not acquainted to the story could imagine the arrow stood for the elf race instead of the men of Long Lake, but in the long run it didn't matter as long is it was clear that all four races worked together to get rid of the dragon. Hemming the design were eighteen triangles, one for each one of the members of the Company plus Gandalf, coloured as to indicate their families.

"Durin… this is beautiful!"

Lily felt a knot in her throat whilst gazing at the stained glass. Her memory still held the horrible hole, the stench of the dragon, the dust covering everything, the emptiness of the abandoned place. Too much changed in the four years she had been absent, but she was happy to see the change. It was what Thorin had died for. Her heart was still broken, and she knew it would mend never more, not in this life, but to see Erebor restored to its glory, to see the faces of the people of Durin happy in their rightful home, it gave her a peace she had not known before.

When she came back to her feet, they were in front of the statues of Mahal and Durin that watched over the house's restored doors. Wolfram had been warned by Bofur of some formalities expected and didn't run into the arms of his sister when the doors opened to reveal Ellen and Kíli, hand in hand. The wards at the door crossed their axes in front of the outsiders and one of them shouted.

"Who comes to the house of Kíli Elvenblood, son of Dís, Daughter of Thrain, King Under the Mountain?"

Wolfram took in a deep breath and played his part.

"I am Wolfram, son of Nyda, and I bring my daughters Lily the Dragon Blinder and Iris the Goblin King's Bane. I come in peace of friendship and family."

The other ward shouted to the people around as they uncrossed the axes, vouching them passage. Each of his greetings was answered by the cheerful crowd.

"Hail to Wolfram the Green! Hail to Lily the Bride! Hail to Iris the Halfling!"

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(1 – From Emerson, Lake and Palmer's song "Karn Evil 9")

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For anyone who likes SHerlock Holmes, I strongly suggest to check Watson'sGirl work, it is her first fanfic, but so far it looks like it will be a good story.


	19. Chapter 19 - Rhimdat

Hello, dear readers, here we go again! we'll have to hurry with Bilbo's journey, else he won't reach Erebor in time, so next week we will keep up with them.

Until then, would you mind to review?

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The halflings didn't have to know elvish to know something was wrong the moment they saw their escort running wild downhill and shouting at them to do the same. Drogo stood up with sleepy Primula in his arms, unsure if he would be able to run with her, but doubtless he would try. His confusion as to what to do was solved when Estel grabbed the girl and hauled her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, as it was much easier for him to carry the tiny hobbit-lass that way. Not that Drogo was willing to leave her side for any gold in Middle-Earth, but he understood their need for speed.

Nellas had got half-conscious Ferumbras in a similar way, freeing Aredhel to use her spear at will. The remaining hobbits ran as they could, but Bilbo had his Sting unsheathed, just in case; not that he was much of a swordshobbit, but it was better than nothing. It shone dimly blue, to his distress.

"Make through the trees, it may baffle them!"

"Run, run! Some of them have bows!"

And run they did, taking advantage of the forest and that it seemed to be a small group of digging goblins accompanied by some watchers, not a real hunting party or even scouts. Whilst the elves maintained the weather device to chill the Coldfells and keep it a troll-free zone, the goblins wormed their way under the mountain range to win the Pass, with the purpose of waylaying unsuspecting travelers as they used to do in the pass that led to the Old Ford, the one in which they trapped the Company of Thorin Oakenshield years before. Working solely underground, they managed to get unnoticed until that night, when they broke the stone wall that led to the outside, causing the avalanche.

So it was that to meet a travelling party was a surprise to the goblins as much as it was to Bilbo's companions, luckily, but their hate for elves was to be accounted for. When they saw that there were _accursed_ halflings too, it was a matter of pride to fight the race of the one who killed one of their mightiest kings. Luckily again, they didn't know the fiancé of said king-killer was amongst the fleeing travellers, else their efforts to reach and kill them would be tenfold.

The faster goblins had been close enough to fight at close range, and Elladan and Elrohir's swords were of good use, as was Aredhel's spear; Figwit and Culuin made their bows sing, giving the further goblins a taste of elvish arrow; and the hobbits ran the best they could. Soon, the mess was over, no living goblin to be seen, but the travellers ran some more until they had put a good distance between them and the avalanche.

When they finally stopped, warned by Bilbo's sword that there was no living goblin nearby, the waning moon had already set, and they could count only on the light of the stars of Elbereth to guide their steps and see how all of them fared. The hobbits were panting hard, some of them grabbing at their sides, not used to such amount of effort in so little time. Estel put Primula down beside an overanxious Drogo and sat down, recovering his breath. Aredhel reached for Nellas to help her to lower Ferumbras and gave a startled cry.

"The halfling was hit!"

She took the unconscious hobbit from Nellas' shoulder, carefully so not to move him too much. A black feathered arrow stuck from his right shoulder, and she shivered at the thought that if it weren't for this little involuntary shield, it would have pierced Nellas towards her heart. She broke the shaft midways so it would not dangle and injure him more inside.

"We need to get it out and cleanse the wound at once, it might be poisoned."

"The medicines where in my pack, we have nothing to tend him." Elrohir frowned, worried. "Culuin, you've been scouting these slopes lately, how long to Rhimdat river?"

The silver haired dwarf made himself concentrate on the surroundings, a bare hand on the ground, reckoning the lay of the land, the dampness of the soil, the feel of the air.

"Two miles as the eagle flies, north-eastwards. It would lead us back closer to the goblins, though."

"Dawn is coming, they will not bother us until dusk, it might be worth the try."

"What is happening to my cousin? Why don't you extract the arrow away and be done with it?"

Bilbo could not be more anguished to see his kin injured; the hypothermia was bad enough, but arrows frightened him to the core since Fili's death. Elladan tried to explain, even if it would not calm the hobbit at all.

"Because we would not be able to bandage it at once, and the place it is stuck will bleed him to death. We must remove the arrow and cauterize in the same move."

"But if it is poisoned, the longer it is stuck the more the poison will harm him! We must pull the arrow out!"

"Bilbo, calm down; you cannot simply pluck an arrow, the point can get loose inside the wound and make it much more difficult to retrieve it; we are making a choice between possible poisoning and sure hemorrhaging. We will do our best to save your kin."

What they didn't see while discussing what to do was Aredhel carrying Ferumbras in her arms like a ragdoll, heading the direction Culuin said the river would be closer, and Nellas running in the same direction with some yards of advantage over her companion already. Elladan cried their way, startled.

"What are you doing?"

"_Doing_ something instead of _chatting_!"

He shook his head. Not even his father was able to control or predict Aredhel's actions, it was not for him to try it. He turned to the remaining company instead, heaving a sigh.

"Estel, look for the herbs you know, you can find them easier than us; Culuin, Figwit, brother, we escort the halflings. Bilbo, please help us with your kin, we must be on the move."

All of them made as he bode, and Bilbo helped Drogo to make Primula stand. She still felt dizzy, but able to walk, and they would not all be running right now, just the ones who where tending to Ferumbras. Those two miles would be longest of his whole life.

ooo000ooo

When they reached the river bank a small fire was already set, and some of the smallest of Nellas' daggers where on a stone close to it to heat. Ferumbras had been laid on his side and breathed in grasps, already sweating cold. There was no more doubt the arrow was poisoned. Elrohir started to distribute instructions, he and his brother working as one in the leadership, the hobbits still stunned by the fact that there had actually happened an accident and then an attack to their party.

"Figwit, help with the fire, take the halflings who are able to get more wood with you, but don't let any of them wander alone; Drogo, bring Miss Primula closer to the fire, you both don't have to look at Ferumbras while we tend his wound, but she must be kept warm; Culuin, fetch… oh, thank you for the water, I was going to ask you to fetch it for us; where is Estel?"

"Coming!"

The man reached the makeshift camp in few large strides with a handful of small leaved undergrowth, already washed in the nearby stream. He was crushing it in his hands, and a fresh and soothing scent spread around them.

'_Most healing plants have to be boiled or at least stepped to work; just a tuna can would be enough to boil the water, but we have nothing_', thought Bilbo, remembering when Lily and Óin worked on the Company's injuries after the meeting with Azog. He could not remember being so frightened in his life as that day, seeing Thorin be shaken in Azog's warg mouth like a disgusting bone, and then the other orc aiming Thorin's throat with his jagged sword, and then the eagle flight, and then Thorin scowling him so harshly on top the eagles' nests just to welcome him so warmly as a member of the Company, at last…

"Any sign of the horses or of any pack?"

Bilbo heard Elladan ask the group in general, hearing without processing it, his mind still on that day so many years before. He never thought about dealing with healing, and his mind just stored bits of data on it.

"I'll make the possible with cold _athelas_ if it has to be, _otorno_ (1), but he will need more than this, anyway."

Elladan nodded, and beckoned Aredhel and Nellas to help him with the hobbit they had lain atop of one of their cloaks and covered with the other, spread on the ground close to the fire. Now they removed his coat, waistcoat and shirt, moving him the least possible, and for once they were glad Ferumbras was still drowsy from the hypothermia.

Then Estel and Aredhel held him to the ground while Elladan picked one of Nellas' sterilized daggers to help him take the arrow off; she held a piece of cloth she ripped off her sleeve to cleanse the blood that gushed from the wound, ignoring the hobbit's cries as Elladan applied the brazen points of the remaining daggers to cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding as much as possible. Bilbo braced himself not to swoon, helping to keep his cousin immobilized, nauseated by the smell of burnt flesh.

The elf changed places with Estel, who now applied a salve of smashed leaves directly on the wound, humming something under his breath, eyes almost closed. The fresh scent and the cool paste on the burned skin seemed to calm Ferumbras down, and he was breathing visibly more relaxed. The man had begun to bandage the wound with more pieces of Nellas' sleeve when Bilbo questioned him.

"Should it not be stitched? I know we lost our packages, but it will have to be done, won't it?"

Estel sent him an appreciative glance, pondering the meaning of Bilbo's question. It could be simple curiosity, concern for his cousin's welfare, or doubt on his healing skills. The hobbit's frowned brows and pleading eyes made it clear it was more out of concern that anything else.

"Arrow wounds are prone to fester, even when they're not poisoned as this one was. We cauterized to stop the bleeding, but it must heal from inside out with every chance to get the medicines in and infection and poison out."

Bilbo shook his head. If someone who learned his healing arts from Elrond said it should be so, so it should be, then. Estel took some of the crushed leaves and made Primula smell them, to what she stirred and opened her eyes a slit, mumbling drowsily.

"Is it breakfast time?"

Drogo smiled warmly, glad to hear something coherent coming from her lips, and snuggled her closely; at least she had slept during Ferumbras' ordeal.

"Not yet, flower of my heart, not yet."

"Since when do you call me _flower of your heart_?"

Her voice was a mixture of curiosity, confusion and sleepiness.

"Since now. And I expect you to like it."

Primula closed her eyes again, unable to keep awake, and muttered while going into dreams realm again.

"Hmm. Sounds good."

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(1 - Otorno = sworn brother)


	20. Chapter 20 - Men-i-Naugrim

**Hello, dear reders, here we go along with Bilbo and his journeying friends. Don't worry, nothing bad will happen to Ferumbras this chapter!**

**Next week, let us see what the visitors brought to Erebor. In the meanwhile, reviews would make me extremely happy!**

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Men-i-Naugrim - The Old Forest Road

The hobbits slept what they could while their escort watched in the dark, until the sky got clear enough for them to walk without much risk of stumbling. Half the elves made an attempt to find their packs, with little success, but enough for them to have a meager breakfast and keep something for less than a week. The horses were nowhere to be seen, but their tracks led southwards. They had some tough decisions to make, so the escort and Bilbo headed a bit away from the sleeping hobbits to hold council.

"We have done what we could, but Ferumbras must be taken to a house of healing as soon as possible. To go back to Imladris is out of question, it is too far and he would not stand the weather of the Coldfells."

"There are Woodmen near the Old Ford, they could help us."

"But they have no healing house, they are quite a rude people, and anyway it would be eight days marching from here, at least."

"The closest house of healing would be in Thranduil's halls, then, but it is even further than the Old Ford."

"Yes, but there is no choice. We must try for Thranduil."

Bilbo counted mentally to ten and spoke, nervous.

"I don't know how much you are acquainted to that path, and I myself don't know how much it had changed in the past years, but it took the Company of Thorin Oakenshield close to a month to reach Thranduil's halls, and we had food most of the time. How do you suppose we can get there with almost no supplies in time to heal my cousin?"

The elves exchanged glances, some kind of non verbal communication passing amongst them, until they reached some agreement despite Bilbo's opinion and Elrohir answered him.

"We can make it in a fortnight or less, running, carrying the halfling in turns."

"We hobbits cannot run blind in the darkness of that blasted forest for two weeks!"

Aredhel shifted to her usual stern tone as she spoke to him, supported by Nellas.

"You halflings don't, but we elves can."

"If just two of us carry half of the provisions left and run, we travel light and make it in time."

Bilbo could see the logic in the idea, and figured out the closure of the puzzle.

"The remainder of the party can hunt and gather while heading south and cross the forest through the Old Forest Road . I had planned to visit Beorn, anyway, only didn't imagine to do it asking for help again, we may not even have to ask the Woodmen."

So it was settled and the few packs they had found were reorganized so one of them had provisions enough for two elves and a sick hobbit to reach Thranduil's halls, and the remainder was distributed in the other two backpacks. The only blanket found was given to Ferumbras, both for his warmth as for helping the elves to carry him more comfortably. With the pain of guilt for having exposed his best friends to danger, Bilbo said goodbye to his groggy cousin, hoping against hope it would not be the last time.

"I hope you don't mind some bouncing, little friend, for we have need for speed. Hold on!"

With this Nellas ran after Aredhel, who took the lead in the steady run for the forest, while the remaining of the travelers gathered their strenght and started to walk.

ooo000ooo

As they headed south the weather got warmer, not only for the longitude but mostly for being further form the mountain range and the weather device. They used the first day to put distance between them and the mountains, to lessen the risk of a goblin attack, as there was no more how to be sure of their tunnel exits, not losing time in trying to hunt for food. What was left would endure two or three days, and to be far from the goblins was more important right then.

Primula was doing fine after her body warmed, still puzzled by Drogo's behavior at her, but wondering that it was not unpleasant at all. Beryl and Dudo made sure them both would walk as close as possible, having made some kind of agreement in helping the pair to stop bickering and start courting. Now Beryl had put the gears of her mind to work to have more fun with it.

"Hey, Bilbo, how is that thing about wagers with the dwarves?"

"Well, they bet about many things; actually, about anything they set their mind to."

"Like what?"

"Hmm, along our journey they took wagers on whether I would join the Company or not; on how long it would take for me to complain on missed meals; on how many days it would rain once it started; on if Dwalin would beat Ellen or Ellen would beat Dwalin; on how many times Bombur would help himself at Elrond's feast; on how many times Gandalf would call Thorin stubborn in a certain amount of time; and so there was always a jolly wager around the party whenever you could ask for one."

"Would you mind to be the keeper of a wager?" Asked Dudo.

"Not at all. What do you brats have in mind?"

"How long will it take for Drogo and Primula stop to be the oblivious idiots they are!"

Bilbo stopped on his tracks at such idea.

"In the whole or just one to another?"

"Oh, just one to another."

"Then there is hope. I'll keep the wagers."

ooo000ooo

It took them some days to reach the Carrock, where they set camp for a night, and then the next day found them strolling in a wide pasture of bees as big as moths; a mile more or so and they found the wooden-built house of the skin-changer.

"So, it seems I have a bunch of beggars at my door again, and none other than my well known bunny here!" Beorn's laughter boomed as he herded the travelers inside his house. "And where is that _not a puppy_ of yours? These two here look softer than that firehead. Shouldn't she be with you, Master Bunny?"

Bilbo smiled wryly at the, literally, bear of a man.

"I'm on my way to meet her at the Lonely Mountain. Strange, I am sure you have been sent an invitation for our wedding."

Beorn scratched his beard with a hand whilst grabbing half a dozen mugs by their handles with the other.

"Invitation, invitation…" He turned back with more mugs. "Ah, that parchment the bird brought?"

"Yes, that must be it, a raven from Erebor."

"Well, I don't make much out of scribbles, you see, and the bird didn't want to wait for a bit of talk. A wedding, did you say?"

Of course reading was not an universal skill, and it had to be considered that Beorn was a kind of rustic being. Bilbo facepalmed.

"I'm so sorry, Beorn, Ellen should have sent you a voiced invitation! We are going to marry next September, that's why I'm traveling there along with my cousins, and these kind elves and man are traveling along to help with our safeness in the wild."

Beorn looked at the whole party, evaluating them.

"Let me guess, you found goblins in the mountains and lost your supplies."

"Actually…"

"And you need help to cross Mirkwood." A good sized honey mead keg found its way into the dinning room. "And you thought you could find help with this old bear here, right?"

"Well… yes."

An amused Beorn filled the mugs and handled them out to the travelers.

"Then, I must tell you this time I won't lent you any horse or pony, nor give you any directions."

The hobbits tried and failed to hide their disappointment.

"My apologies, Mister Beorn, we just thought…"

"Some days ago a small herd reached my pastures. They were scared and tired, complaining about rolling stones and falling snow. I don't doubt they traveled with you. Luckily, they didn't meet the goblins, though."

"The horses are safe, thanks Oromë!"

Elladan was visibly relieved, but Bilbo was distressed.

"Master Beorn, our friends are experienced travelers, but what does it mean 'you won't give us directions'?"

The skin changer chuckled.

"Why would I give you directions if I'll be traveling with you? I would not miss Little Bunny and Not a Puppy's wedding for all honey in this world, now that I know what that parchment was about."

"This would be splendid!"

"Just give me a couple of days to prepare, I can't leave in a hurry. We'll have to bake some bread, too. We will use the Old Forest Road, it has been mended in recent years, after the Necromancer was outcast from Dol Guldur."

Speaking of bread, he made for the kitchen, signaling them to help. Soon the table was full of food, which the hobbits wolfed down, and the others ate with joy.

The twin brothers went out to see to the horses, and were glad to find them well.

"Nellas and Aredhel would have more use of a horse than us, they need haste."

"One of us could ride back to Thranduil's path leading a spare horse, and find them inside the forest."

"That path is hard to ride, it would not gain them time, but at least they would tire less and it would be more comfort to the halfling."

"I don't know if it would be of use. By the time any of us reaches them, they will be at Thranduil's doors, most probably."

"Elbereth help they have no delays."

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**Extra chapter tomorrow for my wonderful readers! Follow Aredhel and Nellas in their race against time to save Ferumbras' life!**


	21. Chapter 21 - Erynrâd (The Forest Path)

A/N: Phrases within [brackets] mean they're in Elvish, be it Sindarin or Quenya, though it is more probably in Quenya, as Aredhel is from the First Age. No use in finding the words in a dictionary just to put the translation at the end.

There's also a new M-rated chapter in "What the Owl didn't See", it doesn't interfere in the development of the story, it is just some colouring or spicing to it; for the ones who are comfortable to read it, it inserts right after Ferumbras sleeps. s/9622758/1/What-the-Owl-didn-t-See

I thank you for every follow and favorite and review, you keep me motivated!

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You are the hole in my head  
You are the space in my bed  
You are the silence in between  
What I thought and what I said  
You are the night-time fear  
You are the morning when it's clear  
When it's over your start  
You're my head  
You're my heart

(Florence and the Machine – No light, no light)

The constant bouncing, added to the weakness the blood loss imposed on him, made Ferumbras sleep most of the time. Sometimes he woke up startled, mumbling incoherently, only to be hushed by the elf who was carrying him at that moment. He begun to learn the difference between them from the way each one carried him in the blanket made into a sling; Aredhel tended to hold him under his arms with the left hand and to use her right to hold her spear, that was also used to help her balance sometimes; Nellas would rather use both arms, one under his knees and other under his shoulders, but she tied the blanket more tightly, so she could free both her hands when needed and still have him secure.

They were already three days long into the forest and five since the snowslide, running, stopping only to eat something and sleep a couple of hours. The hobbit slept most of the time, the uneasy sleep of poison, even if the athelas dressing prevented the worst. They changed it daily, and Aredhel added the bark of a tree she knew to his water bottle, as a painkiller. After this, Ferumbras slept better at night and was a bit more conscious during the day, and it seemed to be improving every day. Nevertheless, they had no illusions that he was going to heal without the proper care they could find only in a House of Healing.

When the silver haired elf called to stop for the night, Ferumbras was glad to be on the ground, on his own feet, even if he felt so weak and dizzy; it was not on him to be a burden on anyone, and he understood they stopped only to have some rest of his weigh, even if he was not a fat hobbit.

Aredhel took her food and sat, leaning on a tree trunk to rest her back, as she had been the last to carry the hobbit, and nibbled her bread. He looked at her, feeling it was the first time in days that he was completely lucid, glad to have his mind working a little better, even if his body was a wreck.

"Milady?'

She acknowledged him.

"Yes, Master Halfling?"

"I want to… thank you, thank you both." He looked at Nellas, who was nearby sharpening one of her innumerable knives, and she sent him a small smile. "I would be dead by now if it weren't for you. I'd be dead _twice_."

Nellas nodded, agreeing with a smile, but said nothing; Aredhel looked from him to the piece of bread in her hand, and back to him.

"We appreciate your thankfulness, Master Halfling. It is more than we are used to from most people."

"I don't understand; you fought battles to free this world of the darkness, of course you should be thanked for."

Nellas wiped her knife and sheathed it, then reached their bag for the herbs to change Ferumbras' bandage, and talked to him while tending the wound.

"We came to escort you and your friends out of our own volition, because it is what we like to do, to help people is our chosen place in the natural order of things; we elves love peace, laughter and merrymaking, but whenever it is needed we are fighters, we fight Morgoth's darkness in every form, and the unnatural creatures he bred. Usually, people are grateful for the deeds of our people, but it is not quite so for the two of us."

He felt uncomfortable, because he had seen how wonderful those two could be, and he had no clue as to why someone would ever think of not being grateful to them for being watchful on the dark things that crept on Middle-Earth the same way one would be grateful to any other elf.

"If… If I'm so bold, could I ask you ladies _why_? You both are so… so wonderful, none could never ask for someone more deserving thankfulness than you. And I mean it!"

The elves exchanged glances, and seemingly agreed on something, even if it looked like the silver-haired one was a bit more reluctant than the raven-haired one. Aredhel was the one to speak.

"People believe it's their place to judge _love_."

Ferumbras felt a good sized stone settle in the bottom of his stomach. He lowered his eyes, disturbed, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, or groggy from the poison again.

["I _said_ it was no issue to dwell on the halfling. He's just another prejudiced fool."]

["Don't be _you_ so prejudiced, Sunshine. He said no word, and he thanked us before _you_ started the issue."]

Aredhel rubbed her brow, tiredly. The possible causes and consequences of the avalanche still clung to her mind and she didn't have time to reason it out yet, too focused on getting the collateral safely to Thranduil's halls, but it blurred her reasoning all the same. And the perspective of seeing Thranduil was another nuisance.

"Miladies?"

They both turned to face Ferumbras, forgotten he was awake. He continued, a low voice matching his health state.

"I apologize for giving you so much trouble; I… I'm just a hobbit from the Shire, I don't understand the big things of the world; but I want you to know that I am thankful to you both, and I don't care if other people ain't. It is my own heart to yours, and my heart wouldn't be beating if it weren't for you ladies, and..." His voice was weak and tired, but he wanted to be sure his point was made. "…one who has been judged once will never judge another one."

The elves exchanged glances, watching him slumber into sleep again.

"About love, you know."

Nellas waited until she thought the hobbit was asleep and untied the knot that made the blanket turn into a sling, turning the carrying sling back to its blanket form, using it to cover the trembling form of the poisoned man. It was the easiest way to do it without having him wincing in pain because of being moved.

"Your medicine did him well, but the poisoning is still at work in the inside. The counter-venom must be instilled in his blood before the full moon."

"I know. But his body needs rest without moving, at least some hours per day, else the counter-poisoning effect athelas is able will not work. We must find the balance between our need for speed and allowing the medicine to work."

"You need rest, too."

"We are both overdoing, Nellas; I take first watch."

"No, you carried him the last hour, I take first watch, you sleep."

"I'm too worried to sleep, I take the watch."

"You are _always_ worried, if it were because of worrying, you'd _never_ sleep. I take the watch."

The silver-haired elf agreed, unwilling, and laid beside the hobbit for the shared warmth. She was almost dozing off when she heard the trembling form mutter in his dreams.

"Otho…"

ooo000ooo

The elves had run several days more, and thanked Elbereth for the good job Legolas and his crew where doing in keeping the path clean and safe. Even the bridge over the black river had been reconstructed, and they had crossed it two days before. They should be close to Thranduil's halls by now, which was just in time, because after the painkiller bark lost its strenght for being used too many times, Ferumbras was getting worse again.

The wound had mended, but the poisoning effects were worsening day by day, immobilizing him; it begun in his extremities, fingers and toes getting numb and weak, and then stiff, and was advancing up his limbs. There was a chance Thranduil had the counter-venom and that they would reach his halls in time, but if the paralysis reached his torso both lungs and heart would stop. Thanks to Estel and his athelas, it was taking far a longer time than it would usually, but there was no guarantee that he would come out of that ordeal unscathed.

With this in mind Aredhel handled the sling with the sleeping (or was it unconscious?) hobbit to Nellas, and adjusted the backpack to her shoulders. They were running even at night, their elvish eyes able to see in the utter darkness of the forest, racing against time. Even if tired, they wanted to put some hours of path behind them before their brief rest.

"Did you hear this?"

Aredhel froze at Nellas' question, taking a better grip of her spear.

"There is something coming."

The sound of something large stumping and the crack of branches was almost clear to them, and approaching.

"If we just move out of the way whatever it is might miss us."

"Let's move, then, run!"

They had not taken a dozen steps when another sound made them stop in their tracks. It was a scream. A human scream.


	22. Chapter 22 - Visitors

Hello, dear readers, here are we back in Erebor, let's see what have the travelers got in their pockets, ooops, in their backpacks?

* * *

Two boys came rumbling and laughing inside the house, the younger one being tackled down by the other right after passing the living room door where the newcomers had just gathered. Only when they were on the ground did they notice the strangers. They spoke at the same time.

"Who are you?" The younger one asked, trying to escape from under his older brother while holding a good sized book in his arms.

"What are you doing here?" The older one questioned, trying to keep his brother in check.

Lily heard it in shock. She had heard that question too many times to forget to whom it belonged last time she was in Middle-Earth. It must be just coincidence, of course, but one that she would not forget. Kíli tried to hide his chuckle while Ellen scolded them, a frown in her eyebrows that told the kids would be in trouble if they didn't obey her.

"Boys, this is no way to greet guests, moreover family! Stand up you two and pretend you have been taught manners!"

The younglings stood up and straightened their dishevelled clothes, trying to recompose.

"My brother, girls, these are Thorin and Frérin, sons of Kíli, heirs of Durin."

The boys bowed low and completed, in unison.

"At your service!"

"Boys, these are Wolfram the Green and his daughters Lily Grace and Iris Glory. He is your uncle and they are your cousins."

The three outsiders bowed as well, repeating the greeting.

"At your service and your family's!"

The kids could not help themselves than to stare, wide eyed. Those three were names out of story, out of legend, they could not be real people. They had heard old Uncle Balin times enough retelling the taking back or Erebor, the Battle of Five Armies, the escape from the Goblin den, Thorin Oakenshield's cure of the gold-sickness, all those stories, they were just stories from times before they were born, not something they could feel as being real, with real people who came to visit their home. Frérin elbowed his brother and whispered.

"Knee, shut your mouth before they notice you're dribbling."

"I'm _not_ dribbling!" Thorin whacked his younger brother trying not to be caught.

"Yes you are!"

"Hey, hey, you two, enough of this!"

Kíli scolded them, but had to give reason to Frérin. Knee seemed mesmerized by the sight of his mother's kin, and unable to look away.

"Go wash yourselves and come to sit by us, we will have a lot of merrymaking today."

The brothers exchanged a glance and ran to the family chambers, chasing each other along the corridor, laughing again. Lily had a smile in her face when she spoke.

"They are so cute! I hope they like the gift I chose for them."

"You know you didn't have to bother about bringing gifts, Aunty, just your coming is a nameless gift."

Said Kíli, and he meant it; Iris embraced him once more and made him lean down to kiss his forehead.

"It may be, Little Brother, but we chose to bring some gifts nonetheless. You know, hobbits are known for their love in sharing gifts. So, shut up and have your own!" She opened one of the backpacks and started to handle things out. "You know, not everything is really wrapped because we had so little room and had to take care with weight also, but this is what we managed to bring, I hope you like it."

The young king unwrapped the gift and looked at it with appreciating eyes, almost guessing what it was but not quite able to grasp its full meaning. He didn't see the additional pack in Iris' hands.

"Is this a toy?" He turned the gift in his hands, trying to understand it. "I see it is a kind of bow, but it is small even for a hobbit. Is it meant for the younglings?"

Lily took it from him and pulled a lever before nocking a bolt Iris handled her to its string. Kíli looked even more confused at the featherless small arrow, but it was clear the girls knew what they were doing. She looked at her elven aunt.

"Ellen, somewhere I can shoot without you getting mad at me?"

"Indoors? Hardly. But if you want a quick demonstration I think we can put that old cushion to that corner, I guess it will do, and my brats have used it as target times enough for me not to care anymore."

She did as she said and came back to where they were reunited. Lily walked back until she was on the opposite corner of the large room. Kíli shook his head in disbelief when she released the bolt from the strange bow, having it disappearing inside the cushion. It was clear the bolt could have reached a lot further.

"What devilry is this?"

Lily handled the weapon back in his hands.

"This, my dear, is a composite crossbow. I hope you enjoy it!"

"Ellen, did you know about this weapon of your world?"

She half smiled.

"Kind of."

"And you didn't tell me anything about it? Can't you see what improvement it can be to our army?"

The elf rolled her eyes.

"Kíli, one thing is to know something exists, other completely different is to understand how it works enough to explain it to someone so it can be made. I was a business woman, not a bloody engineer!"

He looked down at the weapon in his hands and back at his wife, the angry glare of the king quickly replaced by the wide puppy eyes of the husband.

"Of course, sorry. It's just that it is so astounding that I lost my mind for a moment." He turned back to her Earth family. "This is a gift that can mean the sparing of many a life in a war. I have no words to express my gratitude. We will have our Research and Development Team working on it by tomorrow."

"Research and Development Team?" Wolfram looked at his sister with suspicious eyes; better still, eyes that knew what he was seeing, no suspicion at all. "You do not ever drop the bone, do you?"

She chuckled.

"I'm just doing my job, Wolf! Why would I throw everything I learned into the garbage can, if it can be useful here?"

"Hey, you big ones, help me to explain this to Bombur, would you?"

Iris had got another gift from the backpack, and the red haired dwarf was turning it around in his hands without a clue. Wolfram got it headed for the main table, where he fastened the paraphernalia with its clamp.

"Aye, now that I know what to do so that this thing doesn't run away, you tell me what I do with it."

"Quite simple for one used to a kitchen to grasp its potential uses, Bombur. You put a bowl with whatever ingredients you want to mix right here and turn the handle this way…" Wolfram demonstrated. "And here it is! The manual Christy mixer does the work for you!"

Bombur looked at the gadget, curiosity overpowering any restraints.

"This is fabulous! I can see its applications! Thank you! Thank all of you!"

He reached for the newcomers with a smashing hug. To see the fat dwarf joy in a simple kitchen aid was priceless. Iris took an Irish Uillean pipe out of the pack.

"Here, Bofur, we thought this would be perfect for you."

The dwarf took the instrument in his hands in awe and curiosity, as he had never seen a flute like that. After a brief explanation, he tried some notes and found out it would not be so different from the flute he played after all, he just would have to practise a bit.

"I loved it! Just not sure if the ones who hear me rehearse will approve, but it is a problem only if I care about it!"

Bofur's dark eyes shone with delight at the gift, so different from any dwarven stuff and even Dale's. Of course Dale was not what it was before Smaug came, but still it was a name to be remembered when talking about gifts, and slowly flourishing back to its glory.

"Now, sister, we have some specials for you, we are sure you will be pleased at…"

Wolfram made a volume out of his pack, wrapped in one of his shirts to keep the metal from being scratched by his other things. Ellen took it in her hands with a sad smile.

"My old moka-pot! If there is something I miss from our world, is the smell of coffee coming from this moka-pot in the morning. What a pity we have no coffee here, no traveller or merchant has ever brought something like coffee, and this longitude is too cold to try to grow it, even if you could bring me some seeds, which I know you cannot."

She opened the Italian device, noticing the rubber ring had been replaced by a leather one, and was beginning to think her wish for coffee was getting into her wits because she was smelling its aroma, when Lily placed a paper pack in her hand.

"Here, Aunty. I know it won't last until we visit again, but at least for a while you'll have you caffeine dose!"

Ellen cradled the four pounds coffee pack like it were a baby, eyes wet with emotion.

"Coffee! You brought me coffee! Kíli, did you see this? It is coffee!"

The dwarf laughed at his wife antics, whilst excusing her to her relatives.

"If you knew how much I've heard her complain for the lack of coffee, you'd understand that even I myself am happy for the gift. Thank you very much!"

"We have known Ellen without coffee available, Little Brother, I apologize for what you have been through."

"Kíli, there's a chance!" The elf said, wide eyed at the conclusion she reached.

"A chance of what, crazy woman?"

"That there is coffee in Middle-Earth! You see, the things that don't exist here changed themselves into things that exist when we cross both the slow-changing passage of the Map and the fast-changing Gate in Mirror Lake. If the coffee in this pack didn't change itself into something else, it's because somewhere in this world there are coffee plants! Kíli, coffee _exists_!"

Kíli shook his head, amused.

"So, after our quest to retake Erebor, you will set for a quest to find coffee, I see. Never satisfied, my fancy elf."

"I'm going to the kitchen make some coffee. Come, the best place in a house is always the kitchen. Tomorrow there will be a banquet in your honour, everybody will be there, but I believe most of the Company will find a way to greet you today, we will have our meal here at home. You can snack some cookies while I make coffee, dinner will take some time to be ready yet."

"Hmmm, Bombur's cookies? I missed them so much! I'm glad I'll be closer to them from now on."

"Yes, Iris, you'll be only a five-month long journey, with roads clean. So, you'd better get the recipe and make them yourself in the Shire!"

The coffee was beginning to spread its delicious smell around when Dís came in with the three younger ones, with which she had spent some hours at the seamstress preparing their clothes for the wedding party days. Lyn was quite fond of fine gowns, much unlike her mother and very like her uncle Balin, but Fíli and Kim gave her a lot of trouble to get their outfits tried on and measured to adjusting, much like their father and uncle Dwalin would.

The kids were enthralled by the sight of the visitors, who had come back to the main living room when they heard people coming in, and Dís didn't skip the chance to tease the young bride whom her sons had claimed as Little Sister.

"So, this is the hobbit."

She said with a smirk in her lips, circling the red haired girl, who didn't have the nerve to stand what Bilbo had in years before, even if she was determined to not make war to the mother of her beloved Little Brother.

"Yes, it is, Milady, and over there are my swords at your service, as they have been at your brother's, before you ask me what is my weapon of choice."

Dís stopped in front of Iris, rightfully smiling.

"This is not just _the hobbit_; one as insolent as only I myself could be at this young age can only be my own Little Daughter!"

They embraced warmly, and the hobbit-lass felt tears welling in her eyes, having being accepted so quickly and completely by the mother she never had. Her aunt had helped her father to raise her after her mother died in childbirth, and she loved her dearly, of course, but Ellen had been just a teenager when Iris was born, and their relationship was more that of sisters with a large gap of age than that of mother and child. Dís was the first female in her life Iris heard calling her _daughter_. She would never forget it.

Unable to find words to express herself, Iris wiped her eyes with the back of a hand and went to her backpack, fetching a box covered in rich marquetry that she put in Dís' hands. The dwarven lady took it with care, attentive of the delicate handicraft, and opened the lid, curious.

"This is… This is just so beautiful! Look at all these colours, at how fine these threads are!" She gave a side look to Ellen and then back to Iris. "I can bet my beard on who told you about my love for embroidery, am I right?"

Aunt and niece laughed merrily. Indeed, the box Dís held contained a very broad set of silk threads fit for embroidery.

"I hope you like it." Iris shuffled her feet, insecure. "The box was my Grandma's, and Lily helped me to choose the colours."

Dís turned to the young dwarven woman with deep sea blue eyes, stroking her rich hazelnut hair with a broken smile in her own lips; she noticed a certain pair of braids and handled them with care.

"It's been a long time I don't see these beads… You must be very special to have conquered my stubborn and grumpy brother's heart…"

They embraced, moved, Lily having a hard time holding herself not to cry.

"He was not really that stubborn and grumpy, he was just determined and worried too much, that is all."

Dís moved a step back to give Lily an appreciative look.

"As I said, you must be very special; none that was not very special would ever understand him like this."

The sensitive moment was broken by a small tug in Lily's skirt.

"I wanna hug from Aunty Lily."

Lily looked down at the dwarfling who claimed her attention.

"And this must be little Fíli!"

She knelt in front of him and gave him a rightful embrace, caressing his soft blond hair braided so alike the Fíli she knew that it hurt.

"I am Fíli, son of Kíli, son of Dís, at your service!"

The little one recited his name proudly and bowed low, to the adults' amusement.

"And I am Lily, daughter of Wolfram, son of Nyda, at your service!" She stood up to bow properly, and added. "But I'm your cousin, dear, not our aunty."

Lily tried to explain to the youngling, but Fíli was heartbroken.

"But I want you to be my Aunty! Why can't she be my Aunty, Ma?"

"Because she is daughter to my brother, so, she is my niece, and your cousin. She cannot be your Auntie, dear." Ellen explained, while thinking sadly, 'O_r Kíli's, not anymore_'

Her logic didn't make sense to the little blond dwarf.

"Da always calls her 'Aunty' when he shows me her drawing. Why can't she be my Aunty too?"

Lily herself was working her brains hard to get out of the painful memories those meetings were flooding her, but could find nothing to save her; her father, on the other hand, came out with what he could.

"Because… if she were your aunt, I could not be your uncle, and if I were not your uncle, I could not give you this!"

Wolfram produced a bag from out of his backpack and handled it to the dwarfling, who took it with curiosity.

"Thank you very much, Uncle Wolfram son of Nyda."

Fíli opened the cloth bag and peeped inside; then he put his hand in, grabbed something and retrieved some small pieces of carved and painted wood.

"What is this?"

Iris came to his aid, sitting cross legged on the floor close to him.

"Here, lend me these blocks, I'll show you."

Fíli sat beside her, curious, and Kim invited herself to sit beside them.

"See, these blocks are like stones with which you can build things, like a house, a stable, anything."

While she spoke, she arranged the wooden building blocks to show him, who instantly grabbed the idea and a couple of blocks.

"Wow, this is awesome! I'll build a castle."

And saying so, Fíli laid himself belly down and started to arrange the wooden blocks to achieve his intent. The adults who were aware of the hurt all those mentions to the original quest brought to the visitors breathed in relief, until a very small hand tugged Wolfram's tunic.

"Do _Unca Woof_ have a _p´esent_ for _Kee_, too?"

He sat on a coach next and put Kim her on his lap, wringing his mind for a solution.

"Hmm, Kim, I must tell you something very complicated. In the place where I live, owls don't bring us letters so frequently, so we didn't bring a present…"

"And the _´avens_?"

"What?"

"Ma and Da send _lette´s_ with _´avens_, not owls!"

"Ouch, so, where I live, only owls go, not the ravens."

The dark haired girl blinked hard, trying to figure out what that meant, and came back to attack.

"But why _Unca don´_ have a _p´esent_ for _Kee_?"

"Because no owl brought me a letter saying I had a little pretty princess niece to whom I could bring a present, Kim. I didn't know, I didn't know I had a new niece."

The little one fingered a strand of hair, making out what that meant, and howled in distress.

"_Unca Woof don´_ know _Kee_, _Unca Woof don´_ has _p´esent fo´ Kee, bu-hu_…"

Wolfram held the toddler close to him, caressing her hair, trying to comfort her and exchanging desperate glances with his daughters, all of them wringing their brains for a solution.

"I'm sorry, brother, there was really no way to send you news about her birth, and…"

"It is no one's fault, Ellen, but I really should have brought some extra stuff, just in case."

It was none of the adults who came out with a solution.

"Here, _Kee_, come play with me. There're too many pieces for me to play alone with them, I need you to help me, sis."

Kim wiped her nose in her sleeve and looked at him.

"_Fee_ wanna _Kee_ to play?"

"Yes, I want, _Kee_. We can share the present, can't we?"

Her puppy eyes shone like stars and she threw herself into Fíli's arms, knocking him down on the floor.

"And _Kee_ build house for _BUNNIES_!

ooo000ooo

Knee and Frérin chat while doing their hairs to meet the outsider family properly, after a bath that bore away some pounds of library dust. The book they borrowed laid quiet on Knee's desk, and it would have to wait to be read, as there would be so more exciting things happening the next days than to read a Bertiasij, they deemed.

"Did you see Lady Lily? She is _ageless_!"

Knee could not silence his astonishment, and his brother had to agree.

"She is! She is even more beautiful than Mister Ori's drawings picture her."

"His drawings have no colour. The colour of her eyes is like..."

"...Like the colour of clouds in a thunderstorm..."

"...Or the colour of the sky in a summer night..."

"But she has no beard on her chin."

"Mother has no beard at all, what's the problem?"

"I can understand why grand-uncle Thorin fell in love with her." Frérin stated, sighing.

"No!" Knee almost shouted, then tried to regain his composure. "No, Frér, don't ever think of falling in love, she had been Compromised to grand-uncle, she's a Jewel who already found her Guardian, she is untouchable, you know."

The younger one stared at him, surprised.

"Who said anything about falling in love? I just said I understood why _he_ fell in love with her, not that I had any idea about her, your silly one!"

Feeling stupid, Knee paid sudden attention to the bead that finished the last of his braids and tried to sound serious.

"I'm just explaining our cousin is someone who already had a Compromise, not one whom you can look at as if she were an ordinary person."

"You sound like Uncle Balin, Knee. What is the problem?"

"Problem? There is no problem, not even an ounce of a problem, what are you talking about? Here, let me finish this braid, else we will be ready for breakfast instead of dinner."

"As if your stomach would let you miss a meal…"

"Ready! Let's go, I'm hungry."

"Now tell me a novelty…"

The brothers reached the corridor and ran.

"The last to reach dinning room is a maimed orc!"

* * *

Next week: This chapter will introduce a novelty, my first per-request character insert, it was a challenge I accepted from my friend molly1925 (if you like Outsiders, Star Wars, LotR and Hunger Games, you should check her profile!), I hope you enjoy her and the developments her presence in Middle-Earth will cause.

Until then, I'd love to hear from you! Reviews are always welcomed and answered!


	23. Chapter 23 - The Crash

**Hello, dear readers, here comes another friday and another chapter especially for you. I hope you don't throw me too much stones, but I must warn you this chapter contains a character death. Sorry!**

**On the other hand, this chapter introduces Gwendolin Browne, my first per-request character insert; it was a challenge I accepted from my friend Molly1925 (check her profile, you will love her writings!), I hope you enjoy her and the developments her presence in Middle-Earth will cause. As always, expect the unexpected!**

**Words within [brackets] mean they're in Elvish, be it Sindarin or Quenya, though it is more probably in Quenya, as Aredhel is from the First Age. No use in finding the words in a dictionary just to put the translation at the end.**

* * *

Gwendolin lifted her eyes from the magazine she was perusing absently, got a look at the surrounding sky and checked her watch. She had close to fifty minutes of flight to go, yet, and her legs were cramped in the economic class seat. The idea that she was going to attend a test for a studio was enough to make her forget the cramps.

She had worked hard to get this appointment, had sent pics of her work, samples, schemes, schedules showing how her workflow worked (duh!) and references that stated how she was at coordinating people to do what she designed, when she had to do a lot of work at once. She herself loved to sew, but huge works would be impracticable without a team. The beer add job had been a challenge, to dress two hundred people in old Rome style in just one week, and if she didn't have the skill to make people do what she needed them to, she would not have succeeded. That job opened to her the door to offer her custom styling service to that studio, and she grabbed the chance with both hands.

Leaving her home to live in England was an issue, but a double-sided one. For one she feared leaving the safeness of what she had known all her life, even if it was not what most people would dream off, and if she had gone though some hard times while there; on the other hand, the idea of living on her own, away from the nuns, was very exciting. The clouded sky and the cramped seat were quite the opposite, boring her to death. She didn't know her boredom would have a subtle end.

"Good evening, dear passengers; here is Captain Strauss, pilot of this flight. We are entering a turbulence zone which is expected to get us about four minutes to cross. Please keep your seat belts tight and follow any further orientation from the flight attendants."

"_Holly Cross, that's exactly what I needed_." Thought Gwendolin. "_Flying is more safe than driving, flying is more safe than driving_…" She began to chant mentally as a mantra to help her to keep calm whilst the airplane jolted hard; she had a tendency to get fidgety in any unexpected experience, and learned the trick of making up a reassuring mantra years ago. Not that it worked always, but at least it was a try.

The four minutes took forever to pass, and when the voice of the pilot was heard again in the loudspeaker the girl sighed in relief.

"Dear passengers, we have successfully crossed the turbulence zone and will be OH MY GOD!"

A hard bump accompanied the pilot's cry, and people around her begun to scream as the plane begun to obviously descend; Gwendolin remembered to breath when she found out one of the screams was hers; she tried to follow the attendant's orientations at the beginning of the flight.

"_In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, masks will descend from the ceiling. Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face. If you have a small child traveling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs or other adults acting like children_."

She worked hard to follow the instructions and not be one of the said adults acting like children, but it was not easy. Helpfully, the lights were on and not flickering like in plane disaster movies, else she was sure she would break and panic.

"Here's Cap. Welch, the co-pilot; we hit a very large bird and are damaged; the plane is under control but losing potency, so we will make an emergency landing while it's still possible. Please keep calm, keep your seat belts tight and follow any further orientation from the flight attendants."

How the crew was able to keep that seemingly calm tone was a mystery, but she guessed lots of training and having gone through that kind of incident before could be an explanation. She grabbed the ring that hung from her necklace and breathed deep. If everything went wrong, she would be reunited to her parents soon.

This thought brought her a strange serenity, and she was able to look to the people around her. Some were still crying, some with closed eyes mumbling to themselves, a mother holding her child as close to her as the seat belt allowed, several praying. She herself didn't feel the need to pray, even having being conditioned to it by the nuns who raised her. It had been a long time already since she came to the conclusion that no god would really hear her prayers. If there was a god to hear her, she would not have spent her whole life in the orphanage.

Some tense minutes later the plane landed with a crash and lots of jolting, but, against her fears, no explosion, fire, smoke, or being turned to any weird angle. If prayers were needed for that miracle to happen, hers had not been missed. Gwendolin preferred to believe the pilot was very good at what he worked. She would surely thank him and say it to him, if she had the chance.

ooo000ooo

They landed in the middle of a forest, in a small patch of lower growth and bushes. The pilot had been able to make the plane slide on the tree tops, slowing it down, and the final crash was its encounter with the ground. After getting out of the aircraft, the co-pilot explained they had a problem with the radio and were unable to communicate with the airport, but a missing plane would be tracked in few hours, so, it was a matter of getting luggage out of the broken thing and keep a safe distance from it, because of the risk of fire or explosion.

It was dark but not raining, luckily, which made the passengers and crew feel less miserable, and the attendants distributed fairly any snack left inside. The young woman nibbled the roast beef sandwich and put it her bag for later, too nervous to eat. Now, it was to sit down and wait. Not that Gwendolin was comfortable in sitting down and wait, it made her rather fidgety, and she took her handbag with her while taking a walk around the plane; she would _not_ let her sewing and fashion drawing stuff somewhere to be trampled in the dark, and her things were not heavy at all, only a pair of changes of clothes, sewing stuff and a note to write down her thoughts and drafts. It was only a test, after all, she would be flying back to San Diego the next day, and if everything went out fine, then she would see about moving.

Some while later they saw lights in the forest, and voices calling. A small group of end-of-career teenagers approached, led by an elderly man and another adult who was very huge, a bear of a man, one could say. The white-bearded one explained the pilots he was director of a boarding school nearby, and he had come along his gardener and some students from the last year to help them out of the forest, which he swore was a dangerous place.

She was thinking what size of bird would be able to do such a damage she saw in the turbine, but then the plane was flying at a speed that anything would do a damage; but then, what kind of bird would be flying at that altitude?

Her surmises were cut off by a crack in the nearby trees; the crew and remaining passengers where at the other side of the plane, she had been foolish enough to wander alone to see the damage to the turbine and now _there was a hell-damned crack in the trees and some animal was about to get her_!

Gwendolin's limbs were smarter than herself and set her running wild to the opposite direction the sound had come, not really registering that if she ran to where the people were it was most probable that the animal would be scared of a large bunch of humans and back off; oblivious to this kind of safety measure, she heard someone shout a word that sounded like "_troll_" and other people screaming. She at least had saved her lungs for running rather than for screaming, else the animal would have caught her already. Hearing the loud thumps of large feet behind her, Gwendolin didn't waste time looking behind her, and run deeper into the forest as if her life depended upon it. Actually, _it did_.

ooo000ooo

"_Troll? What do they mean by troll?_" She thought while she ran, not daring to waste time looking back. "_It is not that the director of the school looks like Dumbledore that there is a chance to be a troll in this forest!_" Gwendolin heard the stumping closer and started to zig-zag the trees trying to confound the animal. A large trunk seemed to be what was needed to catch her breath and she rounded it as the animal passed by, and she bit back a curse – after all, the nuns had raised her not to swear, and old habits were hard to change.

"_I'm not seeing this, this is an illusion, there are no real trolls in the real world, I hit my head in crash and that sandwich was contaminated by some weird fungus and now I'm delirious!_"

The troll eventually stopped and turned back when it perceived she was no more running in front of him, looking straight in her direction; she managed to get out of the rabbit instinct of freezing and started to run again in other direction.

"_It is a troll, it is really a troll, I've seen a troll and the worst of all is that the moron has seen ME!_"

All the zig-zags and turns and twist she was making helped to avoid the monster, but also made it impossible to find her way back to the plane; she sought for places where the trees where closer one to the other, where she could squeeze herself through and hopefully leave the "_idiot, disgusting, dullard, peabrain, goofus, beastly moron of a troll_" behind. The throbbing of her own blood in her ears along with the stumping of the "_repugnant, numbskull, ignominious, vomitous, horrid oaf_" didn't let her take a clue of where the plane could possible be.

The prospect of being caught for any unspeakable purpose by the "_nauseating twerp, lamebrain schmuck_" made her bemoan the fact that she never dated any boys (not that she ever dated any girls) and how she got her first kiss when a boy pulled her into the boy's bathroom and kissed her in front of all people in second grade, but actually it really wasn't the "_blockhead, ditz, loathsome and hateful moron's_"fault.

Obviously, calling the "_cretin butthead, shabby lummox_" names didn't help her to get rid of that "_repulsive , sickening and nauseating jerk_", but at least it kept her mind from panicking, even if fleeing from that "_gross, idiotic dimwit_" was reason enough to panic on any account.

Gwendolin was almost believing she had outwitted the "_nincompoop, goofball, objectionable dope_" when her foot found a root it wasn't looking for, not at all, and a loud "Ouch!" left her lips and the "_repellent, contemptible bozo_" turned to her direction again, only to be greeted by her accusative cry while she stumbled to her feet.

"Did you see what you did, you moronic oaf?"

The bewildered look the troll directed her could be considered comical if the circumstances were different, which means, if she weren't there at all, but as it was all Gwendolin could possibly do was to regain her footing and run even more; but the dam had burst open and the insult stream was far from wearing off.

"At least if you kill me I'll see my parents in heaven, you despicable dummy, imbecile idiot, thickheaded twit, detestable dolt, abhorrent airhead, birdbrained boob, dirty denderhead, awful abomination, lousy lowdown, disgusting dipstick, nasty ninny, insuferable ignoramus, ghastly goof, dumbheaded donkey, foul fool, heinous horror!"

She heard a whiz somewhat above her head and the "_wretched, monstrous_

_ nitwit_" left out a surprised roar that made the girl look behind to see what happened. Seemingly out of nothing, a dark streak of blood run from the "_offensive, appalling zombie's_" torso, and a new blood stream appeared right after a new whiz cruised the air. Taking advantage of the "_intolerable, revolting turkey's_" sudden distraction, Gwendolin made a new dash to get away from the "_odious and unspeakable dumdum_". She ran right into the midst of the two strangest women she had ever seen.

ooo000ooo

Aredhel regretted silently not having brought Culuin with them, as an expert bowman would be of use right then; but that would mean to leave the rest of the party with no supplies at all, and none of them imagined they would really have any challenge in the forest path if they were silent and fast, as they were being until then; but then it was not expected to find a troll, or to be found by one, by the way. Trolls were expected to be found in Rhudaur, avoided around the Ered Mithrin, suspected in any cave and forgotten about in most of the rest of Middle-Earth. There were no trolls in Mirkwood, even in its darkest times, moreover now that the Necromancer had been outcast from Dol Guldur. Also, there were no humans in Mirkwood besides the rough woodmen that dwelt south of the Old Forest Road, not that north anyway.

The direction of the source of the noise was obvious to the elves, and they prepared for the worst they knew would be coming. Nellas untangled Ferumbras from the sling and hid him almost under the roots of a tree, with strict orders to stay out of the way (just as if he were able to walk at all), hoping he would be unscathed, un-trampled and simply unharmed; then she loosened the holders of some of her throwing knifes, held one prompt to be thrown in a hand whilst the other had three more ready to be used with no delay. Aredhel took a better grip on her spear and they waited for the first sight of the beast.

"…awful abomination, lousy lowdown, disgusting dipstick, nasty ninny, insuferable ignoramus, ghastly goof, dumbheaded donkey, foul fool, heinous horror!"

Nellas' first knife flew as soon as she got a sight of the troll, quickly followed by a second, reaching their marks and resulting in a tree-shaking roar of the beast; she transferred one of the remaining knifes to her right hand and made a double throw, right before a blonde girl stormed between her and her partner.

The girl had an advantage of several yards on her pursuer, and it was slightly slowed by the four knives it had on its body. Aredhel shoved her in the general direction of where Nellas had stored Ferumbras and concentrated on the huge enemy's movement, easily calculating the distance, speed and power of the blow she would deal into his heart. Not that there was any number in her mind, her calculating was the natural result of ages of training, and meant a perfect comprehension of the space around her and of her own abilities, her muscles exerting the exact amount of strength needed to accomplish what she intended. And she intended death.

Gwendolin watched bewildered from behind the large roots of the tree as the black-haired tall woman threw knifes with surgical precision into the "_vile_ _shameful rotten dumbo's_" body, each of them taking its toll from it; she had to stop herself from jumping out of her hiding place when the other woman run forward with a _very_ large spear in her hands, aimed to the "_base goon's_" chest, but held herself when she realised there was a guy beside her. The poor soul was barely able to keep his eyes open, but his look was of anguish. Having nothing better to do right then, she asked, gingerly.

"Do you want me to inform you what I see of their fight?"

He blinked once and breathed something she presumed was a _yes_. Gwendolin tried her best to be an announcer to the tiny pale guy

"So. The blonde run to it with her spear; the other threw more knives; it roared, but you can hear it, I don't have to tell you; it turned left in the last moment and the blonde missed her spear-blow, I didn't imagine a hulk like that could move so fast; the brunette got some larger knives and is heading right into the filth's direction, she must be crazy; the blonde made several gashes in it's side but she doesn't look satisfied with it, she is taking some steeps behind to get a better aim, I think; the brunette jumped like a weird ninja and stabbed her knives into the freak's knee, now it is stumbling down and wow! The blonde got her spear right into its chest, I think she is going to kill it, but argh, no! No! Leave her alone, you wretched idiotic moron! He got the brunette and he is shaking her by her neck like she were a ragdoll, oh, no, no, no, the blonde got her spear back and now she cut it's wrist, it is shedding a waterfall of dark blood and he dropped the brunette, the blonde aimed and got her spear right into the beast's heart, if the heart of a beast is in the same place as ours; it must be, because it is falling forward grabbing the spear shaft and trying to pull it out, but it cannot. It fell. It is still. The blonde killed it."

Ferumbras felt relieved that the troll was seemingly dead, but worried about his elven guardians, and tried to move from their hiding; Gwendolin perceived his intention and helped him to his feet, only then taking note of his really short stature. While in the orphanage, being the nuns' pet, she got well acquainted to people with any kind of disability, and dwarfism was nothing unheard of or unknown to her. She even knew that some kinds of dwarfism were proportional, so he was no freak to her.

"I think it is safe for us to get out of here, buddy; are you all right?"

The hobbit nodded, but his limbs were stiff and he was getting trouble to speak. He was worried about Nellas, as from the strange girl's account she had been dropped from the troll's grasp, which surely had not been the gentlest one could imagine. The blonde girl stepped out of the tree root hiding and lent her hand to the hobbit, and then helped him to walk propping him under his arms, perceiving he was unable to walk on his own. The scene that greeted them was horrible to any accounts, moreover to those two who had never seen real battle in life.

The troll was dropped on his belly, Aredhel's spear head showing through his back, having trespassed his huge body after making several smaller damages along his torso and arms, specially his wrists; if they were able to see his front side, they would have seen several throwing knives of different sizes showing only their handles out of the troll's body, making it look like a pincushion.

The blonde elf was knelt beside her partner, unmoving, some yards from the deceased troll; her hand touched lightly the face of the now even paler raven-haired elf, carefully bringing her head to a more normal position. Her hand trembled as she traced Nellas' eyebrows with a finger, and then caressed her face, unable to believe or to accept her loss.

"Wake up, o please wake up, Velvet, wake up..."

Her muttering mingled with sobs as realization struck her hard. There would be no waking up, there would be no song nor laughter, there would be no Nellas anymore. Aredhel cradled the head of the fallen one to her breasts, covering her face with kisses and tears that would not stop. She had seen death before, she had seen too many deaths to remain sane, yet the dark haired elf was her sanity, her light, her breath, the glue that kept the fragments of her soul together; and now she was gone.

"[NO!]"

Aredhel's cry was loud, and deep, and it reverberated into Ferumbras and Gwendolin's bodies like the drums of an ancient culture's rituals, like the rumble of a thunder that doesn't set out lightning, but keeps in its core all the power nature in itself can muster.

They watched the elf's crude pain for they didn't know how long, uncertain and unable to do anything to ease her wracking sobs, to comfort someone who clearly had lost everything that gave meaning to her life. The girl was oblivious to it, but Ferumbras had witnessed not only the strong bond of the two but also the blonde's usual stone mask, gruff manners and ostensible self control. To see Aredhel cry her innards out was almost obscene.

The prayers Gwendolin was unable to say for herself in the crashing plane came to her in behalf of that dead woman she never knew before, and of the one who cried her death so painfully. No conscious movement was made, but when the girl realized she and the tiny man had knelt beside them and added their arms and tears to the portrayal of grief.

* * *

**Next week: more gifts are given and things don't work out as planned. Until then, please review?**


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